Modernity is the transient, the fleeting, the contingent; it is one half of art, the other being the eternal and the immovable.
Music fathoms the sky.
The life of our city is rich in poetic and marvelous subjects. We are enveloped and steeped as though in an atmosphere of the marvelous; but we do not notice it.
Unable to suppress love, the Church wanted at least to disinfect it, and it created marriage.
I join a heart of snow to the whiteness of swans; I hate movement for it displaces lines, And never do I weep and never do I laugh.
The act of love greatly resembles torture or surgery.