A Man Who Drinks Only Water Has

Where One Should See Only What Is Beautiful, Our Public Looks Only For What Is True.

My Love, Do You Recall The Object Which We Saw, That Fair, Sweet, Summer Morn! At A Turn In The Path A Foul Carcass On A Gravel Strewn Bed, Its Legs Raised In The Air, Like A Lustful Woman, Burning And Dripping With Poisons, Displayed In A Shameless, Nonchalant Way Its Belly, Swollen With Gases.

Nearly All Our Originality Comes From The Stamp That Time Impresses Upon Our Sensibility.

All Good And Genuine Draftsmen Draw According To The Picture Inscribed In Their Minds, And Not According To Nature.

I Felt Passing Over Me The Wind Of The Wing Of Madness.