“Against a set of desolate scenery, amid spectral crags and livid mountains of ash, beneath the funereal daylight of slopes illuminated in blue, she personified the spirit of the witches' sabbat. Morbid and voluptuous, sometimes with extenuated grace and infinite… — Jean Lorrain Copy Share Image
“But that woman is an encyclopedia! Of all vices, ancient and modern, and terribly interesting to leaf through! ” — Jean Lorrain Copy Share Image
“...the presence of others has become even more intolerable to me, their conversation most of all. Oh, how it all annoys and exasperates me:… — Jean Lorrain Copy Share Image
“The beauty of the twentieth century is the charm of the hospital, the grace of the cemetery, of consumption and emaciation. I admit that… — Jean Lorrain Copy Share Image
“His fame as an artist requires very tender care. Look what a mask of diplomacy is painstakingly formed by the whole of that fine… — Jean Lorrain Copy Share Image
“A strange girl, all phosphorous and cantharides, burning with every desire! And burning with every vice!” — Jean Lorrain Copy Share Image
“There were charming ones as well as terrible ones, that I must admit. The painter was particularly entranced by Japanese masks: warriors', actors' and… — Jean Lorrain Copy Share Image
“At this point, the sequence of my memories is disrupted. I sank into a chaos of brief, incoherent and bizarre hallucinations, in which the… — Jean Lorrain Copy Share Image
“The ring which you are holding, my friend, is identical to that one. I had it cut according to the model of the king's… — Jean Lorrain Copy Share Image
The fancies that take their monstrous birth from the spinelessness and boredom of usurped wealth bring in their wake every defect ... and though… — Jean Lorrain Copy Share Image
“The Marquis de V... - whose falsetto voice and little watery eyes I have always detested - was saying to me with a wicked… — Jean Lorrain Copy Share Image
Her vice takes hold of her again, but she still refrains until some moment when, gnawed by some hideous caprice, she comes aground like… — Jean Lorrain Copy Share Image
