Woman, nude, is the blue sky. Clouds and garments are an obstacle to contemplation. Beauty and infinity would be gazed upon unveiled.

Memory is a gulf that a word can move to its lowest depths.

The beautiful has but one type, the ugly has a thousand.

There is no distress so complete but that even in the most critical moments the inexplicable sunrise of hope is seen in its depths.

The supreme ordeal, let us say rather, the only ordeal, is the loss of the beloved being.

Philosophy is the microscope of thought. Everything desires to flee from it, but nothing escapes it.

Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.