We are given up to those gods, those monsters, those giants, — our thoughts.
Joy's smile is much closer to tears than laughter.
I will be Chateaubriand or nothing.
Rhyme, that enslaved queen, that supreme charm of our poetry, that creator of our meter.
This book should be read as one would read the book of a dead man.
My misfortune is that I still resemble a man too much. I should liked to be wholly a beast like that goat. - Quasimodo