Writers tell more truths, and more lies, than most.
Anybody can lead a frivolous life. A frivolous writer, however, must have taste and intelligence.
The more learned a writer, the more digression beckons him.
Lead the reader toward the thought, then stop a little short.
To avoid taking responsibility, I become unresponsive but hang on until the other person leaves me.
Now that I see you understand me so well, I will avoid you.
We worship the aesthetic, but we do not have faith in it.
The Muses inspire art and pretend not to notice when Mammon buys it.
Critics are more committed to the rules of art than artists are.
Rule of art: let half-blind purpose lead you.
Art chooses its constraints.
A work of art is an echo chamber which repeats what people say about it.
Forgetting and remembering are governed by laws, but we cannot find out what they are.
Fearful of sentimentality, I disown my tears and melting heart.
If you insist on asking me why I feel the way I do, I plan to take the Fifth Amendment.
Outside literature, high-flown sentiments are merely exasperating.
Under attack, sentiments harden into dogma.
No need to be sentimental to mourn the loss of Paradise.
Cheap thrill: moral outrage revels in its own innocence and in the guilt of the wicked Others.
My father liked to moralize, and so do I. But he was in earnest, while I am embarrassed and pretend that I am merely being witty.
A fastidious taste is best indoors, away from nature and the city.
Proverbial wisdom counsels against risk and change. But sitting ducks fare worst of all.
Lovers remain in the dark, working hard to keep out daylight.
The nonsense that charms is close to sense.
Self-absorption intensifies isolation, but permits it to go unnoticed.
