The Author, In His Work, Must Be

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

Life Must Be A Constant Education; One Must Learn Everything, From Speaking To Dying.

It Is Splendid To Be A Great Writer, To Put Men Into The Frying Pan Of Your Words And Make Them Pop Like Chestnuts.

What Baffled Him Was That There Should Be All This Fuss About Something So Simple As Love.

And The More He Was Irritated By Her Basic Personality, The More He Was Drawn To Her By A Harsh, Bestial Sensuality, Illusions Of A Moment, Which Ended In Hate.