Come, Let’s Be Calm: No One Incapable

Adultery ... Could Be As Banal As Marriage.

Women Want You To Deceive Them: They Force You To, And If You Resist, They Blame You.

Prose Is Like Hair; It Shines With Combing.

If You Participate In Life, You Don’t See It Clearly: You Suffer From It Too Much Or Enjoy It Too Much. The Artist, To My Way Of Thinking, Is A Monstrosity, Something Outside Nature. All The Misfortunes Providence Inflicts On Him Come From His Stubborness In Denying That Maxim.

But An Infinity Of Passions Can Be Contained In A Minute, Like A Crowd In A Tiny Space.