One does not kill oneself for love of a woman, but because love - any love - reveals us in our nakedness, our misery, our vulnerability, our nothingness.
From Cesare Pavese
Love is the cheapest of religions.
The richness of life lies in memories we have forgotten.
No woman marries for money; they are all clever enough, before marrying a millionaire, to fall in love with him first.
Artists are the monks of the bourgeois state.
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