Nothing Spoils A Confession Like Repentance.

All Changes, Even The Most Longed For, Have Their Melancholy; For What We Leave Behind Us Is A Part Of Ourselves; We Must Die To One Life Before We Can Enter Another.

In Art As In Love, Instinct Is Enough.

I Cling To My Imperfection, As The Very Essence Of My Being.

What Men Call Civilization Is The Condition Of Present Customs; What They Call Barbarism, The Condition Of Past Ones.

I Thank Fate For Having Made Me Born Poor. Poverty Taught Me The True Value Of The Gifts Useful To Life.