He Could Transform The Barest Incident Into

He Was So Terrible That He Was No Longer Terrible, Only Dehumanized.

I'm A Slave To My Emotions, To My Likes, To My Hatred Of Boredom, To Most Of My Desires

Every Author Ought To Write Every Book As If He Were Going To Be Beheaded The Day He Finished It.

I Was Within And Without. Simultaneously Enchanted And Repelled By The Inexhaustible Variety Of Life.

Beauty Is Only To Be Admired, Only To Be Loved - To Be Harvested Carefully And Then Flung At A Chosen Lover Like A Gift Of Roses. It Seems To Me, So Far As I Can Judge Clearly At All, That My Beauty Would Be Used Like That.