Spring appears and we are once more children.

Politics in the middle of things of the imagination is like a pistol shot in the middle of a concert.

Logic is neither an art nor a science but a dodge.

It is difficult to escape from the prevailing disease of one's generation.

Ah, Sir, a novel is a mirror carried along a high road. At one moment it reflects to your vision the azure skies, at another the mire of the puddles at your feet. And the man who carries this mirror in his pack will be accused by you of being immoral! His mirror shews the mire, and you blame the mirror! Rather blame that high road upon which the puddle lies, still more the inspector of roads who allows the water to gather and the puddle to form.

The great majority of men, especially in France, both desire and possess a fashionable woman, much in the way one might own a fine horse - as a luxury befitting a young man.

Spring appears and we are once more children.