Young men want to be faithful, and are not; old men want to be faithless, and cannot: that is all one can say.

Nothing is really beautiful unless it is useless; everything useful is ugly for it expresses a need.

Your mysterious young friend, whose name you have never told me, but whose picture really fascinates me, never thinks.

But beauty, real beauty, ends where an intellectual expression begins. Intellect is in itself a mode of exaggeration, and destroys the harmony of any face.