I love my work with a frenetic and perverse love, as an ascetic loves the hair shirt which scratches his belly. – Gustave Flaubert
Are the days of winter sunshine just as sad for you, too? When it is misty, in the evenings, and I am out walking by myself, it seems to me that the rain is falling through my heart and causing it to crumble into ruins. – Gustave Flaubert