I Am A Man For Whom The

You Do Not Become A Critic Until It Has Been Completely Established To Your Own Satisfaction That You Cannot Be A Poet.

The Most Fitting Occupation For A Civilized Man Is To Do Nothing.

Only That Which Serves No End Is Beautiful; Everything Useful Is Ugly.

The Years I Have Squandered In Puerile Excitement, In Going Hither And Thither, In Seeking To Force Nature And Time, I Ought To Have Spent In Solitude And Meditation, In Endeavoring To Make Myself Worthy Of Being Loved.

Who Can Believe That There Is No Soul Behind Those Luminous Eyes!