Whoever Has Loved Once, Knows All That

You See What Stupid Folk My Publishers Are; But They Are All Alike.

And I Refused To Make Any Sacrifices; For Nothing On Earth Seemed More Valuable Than My Peace Of Mind, My Pleasure And My Acclaim.

I Love Everything That Makes Up A Milieu, The Rolling Of The Carriages And The Noise Of The Workmen In Paris, The Cries Of A Thousand Birds In The Country, The Movement Of The Ships On The Waters. I Love Also Absolute, Profound Silence, And, In Short, I Love Everything That Is Around Me, No Matter Where I Am.

There Are No More Thorough Prudes Than Those Who Have Some Little Secret To Hide.

[failure Is Hard Initially Because] One Knows What One Has Lost, But Not What One May Find [and Learn From That Failure]!