A body of work such as Pasteur's is inconceivable in our time: no man would be given a chance to create a whole science. Nowadays a path is scarcely opened up when the crowd begins to pour in.
Theories pass. The frog remains.
The ideal, without doubt, varies, but its enemies, alas, are always the same.
Beauty in art is often nothing but ugliness subdued.
Renown? I've already got more of it than those I respect, and will never have as much as those for whom I feel contempt.
In order to remain true to oneself one ought to renounce one's party three times a day.
