The smooth folds of her dress concealed a tumultuous heart, and her modest lips told nothing of her torment. She was in love.
Writing is a dog's life, but the only life worth living.
The future is the worst thing about the present.
The author, in his work, must be like God in the Universe, present everywhere and visible nowhere.
Of all lies, art is the least untrue.
Of all possible debauches, traveling is the greatest that I know; that's the one they invented when they got tired of all the others.