A Dandy Does Nothing.

Ne Cherchez Plus Mon Coeur; Les Be" Tes L'ont Mange . Don't Search Any Further For My Heart; Wild Beasts Ate It.

The Form Of A Town Changes More Swiftly Alas! Than The Heart Of A Mortal.

The Idea Of Beauty Which Man Creates For Himself Imprints Itself On His Whole Attire, Crumples Or Stiffens His Dress, Rounds Off Or Squares His Gesture, And In The Long Run Even Ends By Subtly Penetrating The Very Features Of His Face. Man Ends By Looking Like His Ideal Self. These Engravings Can Be Translated Either Into Beauty Or Ugliness; In One Direction, They Become Caricatures, In The Other, Antique Statues.

What Do I Care If You Are Good? Be Beautiful! And Be Sad!

What I Say Is That The Supreme And Singular Joy Of Making Love Resides In The Certainty Of Doing Evil.