Somebody told me I should put a pebble in my mouth to cure my stuttering. Well, I tried it, and during a scene I swallowed the pebble. That was the end of that.
Theories pass. The frog remains.
The ideal, without doubt, varies, but its enemies, alas, are always the same.
Beauty in art is often nothing but ugliness subdued.
Renown? I've already got more of it than those I respect, and will never have as much as those for whom I feel contempt.
In order to remain true to oneself one ought to renounce one's party three times a day.
