Nothing can be done except little by little.

I can barely conceive of a type of beauty in which there is no Melancholy.


Nature is a temple in which living columns sometimes emit confused words. Man approaches it through forests of symbols, which observe him with familiar glances.


The poet enjoys the incomparable privilege of being able to be himself and others, as he wishes.



There are moments of existence when time and space are more profound, and the awareness of existence is immensely heightened.

-Charles Baudelaire