A Work Of Art Is An Exaggeration.

Man Is Extraordinarily Clever In Preventing Himself From Being Happy; It Would Seem That The Less Able He Is To Endure Misfortune The More Apt He Is To Attach Himself To It.

We Should Enjoy This Summer, Flower By Flower, As If It Were To Be The Last One We’ll See.

The Want Of Logic Annoys. Too Much Logic Bores. Life Eludes Logic, And Everything That Logic Alone Constructs Remains Artificial And Forced.

The Itch Is A Mean, Unconfessable, Ridiculous Malady; One Can Pity Someone Who Is Suffering ; Someone Who Wants To Scratch Himself Makes One Laugh.

Envying Another Man's Happiness Is Madness; You Wouldn't Know What To Do With It If You Had It.