The Cult Of Art Gives Pride; One

You Can Calculate The Worth Of A Man By The Number Of His Enemies, And The Importance Of A Work Of Art By The Harm That Is Spoken Of It.

I Believe That If One Always Looked At The Skies, One Would End Up With Wings.

You Need A High Degree Of Corruption Or A Very Big Heart To Love Absolutely Everything

Madame Bovary Is Myself.

I Like Prostitution. My Heart Has Never Failed To Pound At The Sight Of One Of Those Provocatively Dressed Women Walking In The Rain Under The Gaslamps, Just As The Sight Of Monks In Their Robes And Girdles Touches Some Ascetic, Hidden Corner Of My Soul.