An Aesthete (n.) is a man whose life is wholly given over to preliminary runs.
An Aesthete (n.) is a man living by robbery: he sneaks up on people, steals their happiest moment, and pockets it like a shadow.
An Aesthete (n.) is one who wants to be at once fate and our Lord God — a task even God cannot manage, since He is only one of the two.
An Aesthete (n.) is an epitome of every possibility — in whom one sees now perdition, now salvation.
An Aesthete (n.) is one whose soul, given over to pleasure, is like a capitulated city — reflection mute, the foreigner's step echoing in empty streets — yet with a little observant outpost always remaining.
An Aesthete (n.) is a man to whom one may confide anything while his machinery is running, because then he hears nothing.
An Aesthete (n.) is the opposite of a pilot: he knows every shoal, and always runs the ship aground — then asks you later how you got off.
An Aesthete (n.) is one who has been everything to a multitude and at bottom nothing to any of them; the husband has been nothing to his wife and yet everything.
An Aesthete (n.) is a lone sailor in a one-man skiff on the infinite ocean, whose pleasure is to vanish into the infinite so that just enough of him is left to enjoy the vanishing.
An Aesthete (n.) is a man whose soul's rhythm, for all its passion, is only a spiritus lenis.
An Aesthete (n.) can teach you to enjoy, but cannot explain his own life — he lives in the moment, enmeshed, like an animal whose senses are sharper than ours but bound to instinct.
An Aesthete (n.) however refined shares his view of life with drunken revelers and penny-sportsmen — brothers in his art he will not own.
An Aesthete (n.) is one to whom the world's glories are worth a day, a fortune a month, the most beautiful maiden half a year.
An Aesthete (n.) is too frivolous to despair and too melancholy not to touch despair — like a woman in labor who keeps deferring the moment and stays always in pain.
The Aesthete (n.) develops like a plant: the soul a plot where every herb has equal claim to thrive, so 'I have a bent to be a Don Juan, a Faust, a robber chieftain — I must cultivate it.'
An Aesthete (n.) is one for whom life is 'to be or not to be': the more he lives aesthetically, the more his life demands, and if the least demand fails, he is dead.
An Aesthete (n.) is the accidental man, who believes himself the perfect man because he is the only one.
The Aesthete (n.) always overrates youth, that brief instant of eternity, and suspects every religious person of having merely grown old.