The Pit Of A Theatre Is The

I Discuss With Myself Questions Of Politics, Love, Taste, Or Philosophy. I Let My Mind Rove Wantonly, Give It Free Rein To Followany Idea, Wise Or Mad That May Present Itself. My Ideas Are My Harlots.

We Are Far More Liable To Catch The Vices Than The Virtues Of Our Associates.

Passions Destroy More Prejudices Than Philosophy Does.

There Is Only One Virtue, Justice; Only One Duty, To Be Happy; Only One Corollary, Not To Overvalue Life And Not To Fear Death.

To Describe Women, The Pen Should Be Dipped In The Humid Colors Of The Rainbow, And The Paper Dried With The Dust Gathered From The Wings Of A Butterfly.