The Individual Never Asserts Himself More Than

It Is With Fine Sentiments That Bad Literature Is Made. Descend To The Bottom Of The Well If You Wish To See The Stars.

There Is No Work Of Art That Is Without Short Cuts.

Woe To These People Who Have No Appetite For The Very Dish That Their Age Serves Up.

At Times Is It Seems That I Am Living My Life Backward, And That At The Approach Of Old Age My Real Youth Will Begin. My Soul Was Born Covered With Wrinkles. Wrinkles My Ancestors And Parents Most Assiduously Put There And That I Had The Greatest Trouble Removing.

The True Return To Nature Is The Definitive Return To The Elements-death.