The lovesick, the betrayed, and the jealous all smell alike.

January, month of empty pockets! let us endure this evil month, anxious as a theatrical producer's forehead.

beautiful December grapes, blue as plums, every grape a little skinful of sweet, tasteless water

Voluptuaries, consumed by their senses, always begin by flinging themselves with a great display of frenzy into an abyss. But they survive, they come to the surface again. And they develop a routine of the abyss: It's four o clock. At five I have my abyss.

You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm.

As for an authentic villain, the real thing, the absolute, the artist, one rarely meets him even once in a lifetime. The ordinary bad hat is always in part a decent fellow.

Never touch a butterfly's wing with your finger.