The Cult Of Art Gives Pride; One

Of All Lies, Art Is The Least Untrue.

I Will Cover You With Love When Next I See You, With Caresses, With Ecstasy. I Want To Gorge You With All The Joys Of The Flesh, So That You Faint And Die. I Want You To Be Amazed By Me, And To Confess To Yourself That You Had Never Even Dreamed Of Such Transports.... When You Are Old, I Want You To Recall Those Few Hours, I Want Your Dry Bones To Quiver With Joy When You Think Of Them.

Stupidity Consists In Wanting To Reach Conclusions. We Are A Thread, And We Want To Know The Whole Cloth.

One Can Be The Master Of What One Does, But Never Of What One Feels.

We Should Not Touch Our Idols: Their Gilding Will Remain On Our Hands.