Sirkte yaralanan boğalar, sırtlarında matadorun kılıcıyla, bir köşede yatmaya gitmek ve sükûn içinde ölmekte serbesttirler. Şurada veya burada, söyle… - Alfred de Musset

All men are liars, fickle, chatterers, hypocrites, proud or cowardly, despicable, sensual ; all women faithless, tricky, vain, inquisitive, and depraved. The world is only a bottomless cesspool, where the most shapeless sea-beasts climb and writhe on mountains of slime. But there is in the world a thing holy and sublime — the union of two of these beings, imperfect and frightful as they are. One is often deceived in love, often wounded, often unhappy ; but one loves, and on the brink of the grave one turns to look back and says : I have suffered often, sometimes I have been mistaken, but I have loved. It is I who have lived, and not a spurious being bred of my pride and my sorrow

Qu'importe le flacon, pourvu qu'on ait l'ivresse ?

D’ailleurs la mort est toujours là ; n’est-elle pas partout sous les pieds de l’homme, qui la rencontre à chaque pas dans cette vie ? L’eau, le feu, la terre, tout la lui offre sans cesse ; il la voit partout dès qu’il la cherche, il la porte à son côté.