While All Is New, All

As Soon As I Find Myself In The Presence Of A Rich Man, I Cannot Help Looking Upon Him As An Exceptional And Beautiful Being, As A Sort Of Marvellous Divinity, And, In Spite Of Myself, Surmounting My Will And My Reason, I Feel Rising, From The Depths Of My Being, Toward This Rich Man, Who Is Very Often An Imbecile, And Sometimes A Murderer, Something Like An Incense Of Admiration. Is It Not Stupid? And Why? Why?

Great Ladies ... Are Like The Best Sauces -- It Is Better Not To Know How They Are Made.

The Poor Are The Human Manure In Which Grow The Harvests Of Life, The Harvests Of Joy Which The Rich Reap.

There Is A Diabolical Streak In Me, A Troublesome And Inexplicable Perversity.

While I Was An Honorable Man In Her Eyes, She Did Not Love Me. But The Minute She Understood What I Was, When She Breathed The True And Foul Odor Of My Soul, Love Was Born In Her – For She Does Love Me! Well, Well! There Is Nothing Real, Then, Except Evil.