One arrives at style only with atrocious effort, with fanatical and devoted stubbornness.

There is no truth. There is only perception.

One never tires of what is well written, style is life! It is the very blood of thought!

I have come to have the firm conviction that vanity is the basis of everything, and finally that what one calls conscience is only inner vanity.

There are neither good nor bad subjects. From the point of view of pure Art, you could almost establish it as an axiom that the subject is irrelevant, style itself being an absolute manner of seeing things.

You must write for yourself, above all. That is your only hope of creating something beautiful.