And then again, I am no longer quite such a good-looking young fellow that tapestries leap off the wall in my honour.
Pleasure has turned into passion much more quickly than I should ever have thought possible.
Books follow morals, and not morals books.
Nothing is truly beautiful unless it cannot be used for anything; everything that is useful is ugly because it is the expression of some need, and those of man are ignoble and disgusting, like his poor and infirm nature.
Those horses must have been Spanish jennets, born of mares mated with a zephyr; for they went as swiftly as the wind, and the moon, which had risen at our departure to give us light, rolled through the sky like a wheel detached from its carriage...
Who can believe that there is no soul behind those luminous eyes?