Evil indeed is the man who has not one woman to mourn him.
Everything which distinguishes man from the animals depends upon this ability to volatilize perceptual metaphors in a schema, and thus to dissolve an image into a concept.
Everything is good as it leaves the hands of the Author of things, everything degenerates in the hands of man.[Tout est bien sortant des mains de l’Auteur des choses, tout dégénère entre les mains de l’homme.]
Every man, and for stronger reasons, every artist, wants to be recognized. So do I.[Tout homme et, à plus forte raison, tout artiste, désire être reconnu. Je le désire aussi.]
Every man who is not a monster, a mathematician, or a mad philosopher, is the slave of some woman or other.
Every man who has shown the world the way to beauty, to true culture, has been a rebel, a ‘universal’ without patriotism, without home who has found his people everywhere.
Every man wanted something for himself, but the big beast that was all of them wanted only westering.
Every man should lose a battle in his youth, so he does not lose a war when he is old.
Every man regards his own life as the New Year’s Eve of time.
Every man is wholly honest to himself and to God, but not to any one else.
Every man is surrounded by a neighbourhood of voluntary spies.
Every man is more than just himself; he also represents the unique, the very special and always significant and remarkable point at which the world’s phenomena intersect, only once in this way and never again.
