Art Is The Flower Of Life And,

Man Associates Ideas Not According To Logic Or Verifiable Exactitude, But According To His Pleasure And Interests. It Is For This Reason That Most Truths Are Nothing But Prejudices.

Modesty Is The Delicate Form Of Hypocrisy.

Man, In Spite Of His Tendency Towards Mendacity, Has A Great Respect For What He Calls The Truth. Truth Is His Staff In His Voyage Through Life; Commonplaces Are The Bread In His Bag And The Wine In His Jug.

For Two Thousand Years Christianity Has Been Telling Us: Life Is Death, Death Is Life; It Is High Time To Consult The Dictionary.

Extraordinarily Excessive Sensuality It May Be .. But It All Comes Down To The Same Thing In The End, And One Means Is Surely As Good As Another, Since The End Obtained Is Always The Same. In Any Case The Exceptional, Endlessly Repeated, Is No Different Than The Banal; And Unceasing Recapitulation Can Add Nothing, In The End, To The Sum Of Experience. I Am Weary And Hopeless Three Times The Dupe. Why Have You Trained Me In The Shame Of Abominable Sins?