When You Doubt Your Power,

A Society Of Atheists Would Immediately Invent A Religion.

Several Sorts Of Memory Exist In Us; Body And Mind Each Possesses One Peculiar To Itself. Nostalgia, For Instance, Is A Malady Of The Physical Memory.

The Man Who Enters His Wife's Dressing Room Is Either A Philosopher Or A Fool.

Intuition, Like The Rays Of The Sun, Acts Only In An Inflexibly Straight Line; It Can Guess Right Only On Condition Of Never Diverting Its Gaze; The Freaks Of Chance Disturb It.

Music Is Of Two Kinds: One Petty, Poor, Second-rate, Never Varying, Its Base The Hundred Or So Phrasings Which All Musicians Understand, A Babbling Which Is More Or Less Pleasant, The Life That Most Composers Live.