Evil Comes Up Softly Like A Flower.

God Is The Only Being Who, In Order To Reign, Doesn't Even Need To Exist.

I Have Cultivated My Hysteria With Delight And Terror. Now I Suffer Continually From Vertigo, And Today, 23rd Of January, 1862, I Have Received A Singular Warning, I Have Felt The Wind Of The Wing Of Madness Pass Over Me.

Modernity Is The Transitory, The Fugitive, The Contingent, Which Make Up One Half Of Art, The Other Being The Eternal And The Immutable. This Transitory Fugitive Element, Which Is Constantly Changing, Must Not Be Despised Or Neglected.

A Silent Mouth Is Sweet To Hear.

The Study Of Beauty Is A Duel In Which The Artist Cries Out In Terror Before He Is Defeated.