You do not become a critic until it has been completely established to your own satisfaction that you cannot be a poet.

Art is beauty, the perpetual invention of detail, the choice of words, the exquisite care of execution.

Only that which serves no end is beautiful; everything useful is ugly.

It is a difficult matter to gain the affection of a cat. He is a philosophical, methodical animal, tenacious of his own habits, fond of order and neatness, and disinclined to extravagant sentiment. He will be your friend, if he finds you worthy of friendship, but not your slave.

Those horses must have been Spanish jennets, born of mares mated with a zephyr; for they went as swiftly as the wind, and the moon, which had risen at our departure to give us light, rolled through the sky like a wheel detached from its carriage.

I am a man for whom the outside world exists.

No one is truly dead until they are no longer loved.