Anybody, providing he knows how to be amusing, has the right to talk about himself.
Dancing can reveal all the mystery that music conceals.
With wine, poetry, or virtue as you choose. But get drunk.
The will to work must dominate, for art is long and time is brief.
In our corruption we perceive beauties unrevealed to ancient times.
To be away from home and yet to feel oneself everywhere at home; to see the world, to be at the centre of the world, and yet to remain hidden from the world—impartial natures which the tongue can but clumsily define. The spectator is a prince who everywhere rejoices in his incognito.
It is time to get drunk! So as not to be the martyred slaves of Time, get drunk; get drunk without stopping! On wine, on poetry, or on virtue, as you wish.
Drink wine, drink poetry, drink virtue.
There are in every man, always, two simultaneous allegiances, one to God, the other to Satan. Invocation of God, or Spirituality, is a desire to climb higher; that of Satan, or animality, is delight in descent.
So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks your back and bends you to the earth, be endlessly drunk.
Romanticism is precisely situated neither in choice of subject, nor exact truth, but in the way of feeling.
Here comes the time when, vibrating on its stem, every flower fumes like a censer; noises and perfumes circle in the evening air.
There is no such thing as a long piece of work, except one that you dare not start.
The man who says his evening prayer is a captain posting his sentinels. He can sleep.
Multitude, solitude: equal and interchangeable terms for the active and prolific poet.
Strangeness is an ingredient necessary in beauty.
Nothing in a portrait is a matter of indifference. Gesture, grimace, clothing, decor even - all must combine to realize a character.
It is unfortunately very true that, without leisure and money, love can be no more than an orgy of the common man. Instead of being a sudden impulse full of ardor and reverie, it becomes a distastefully utilitarian affair.
The vices of man, as full of horror as one might suppose them to be, contain the proof (if in nothing else but their infinitely expandable nature) of his taste for the infinite; only, it is a taste that often takes a wrong turn.
There are but three beings worthy of respect: the priest, the warrior and the poet. To know, to kill and to create. The rest of mankind may be taxed and drudged, they are born for the stable, that is to say, to practise what they call professions.
A man who drinks only water has a secret to hide from his fellow men.
To the solemn graves, near a lonely cemetery, my heart like a muffled drum is beating funeral marches.
However incoherent a human existence may be, human unity is not bothered by it.
Comme l'imagination a cre e le monde, elle le gouverne. Because imagination created the world, it governs it.
Finer than any sand are dusts of gold that gleam, Vague starpoints, in the mystic iris of their eyes.
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