To Have A Horror Of The Bourgeois

Walks. The Body Advances, While The Mind Flutters Around It Like A Bird.

Our Dream Dashes Itself Against The Great Mystery Like A Wasp Against A Window Pane. Less Merciful Than Man, God Never Opens The Window.

In Literature, There Are Only Oxen. The Biggest Ones Are The Geniuses-the Ones Who Toil Eighteen Hours A Day Without Tiring.

Literature Is An Occupation In Which You Have To Keep Proving Your Talent To People Who Have None

Laziness Is Nothing More Than The Habit Of Resting Before You Get Tired.