Empires And Churches Are Born Under The

To Write Is To Become Disinterested. There Is A Certain Renunciation In Art.

Cruel Irony, The Poor Man Tormented With Hunger Feeds Those Who Plead His Case.

The Only Deep Emotion I Occasionally Felt In These Affairs Was Gratitude, When All Was Going Well And I Was Left, Not Only Peace, But Freedom To Come And Go--never Kinder And Gayer With One Woman Than When I Had Just Left Another's Bed, As If I Extended To All Others The Debt I Had Just Contracted Toward One Of Them.

Great Feelings Take With Them Their Own Universe, Splendid Or Abject. They Light Up With Their Passion An Exclusive World In Which They Recognize Their Climate.

Forever I Shall Be A Stranger To Myself. In Psychology As In Logic, There Are Truths But No Truth.