...All my best words are deserters and do not answer the trumpet call, and the remainder are cripples.

It's a pity one can't imagine what one can't compare to anything. Genius is an African who dreams up snow.

And what is death, if not a face at peace - its artistic perfection.

Beauty plus pity-that is the closest we can get to a definition of art. Where there is beauty there is pity for the simple reason that beauty must die: beauty always dies, the manner dies with the matter, the world dies with the individual.

My loathings are simple. stupidity, oppression, crime, cruelty, soft music. My pleasures are the most intense known to man: writing and butterfly hunting.

In and out of my heart flowed my rainbow blood.

Man exists only insofar as he is separated from his surroundings. The cranium is a space-traveler's helmet. Stay inside or you perish.