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- "Everyone who visited the Sphinx remembers the quiet atmosphere of a delicate, amiable and exquisite participation, reigned in a diffused pink light with a huge hall on the ground floor where customers were met by girls dressed in light dresses. For many artists, writers, journalists, actors, this institution has become something of a club. Meetings were arranged here, they would drop by to chat for a glass in the bar. Kisling came to choose his models, they posed for him in the morning, and, after all, the walls of the Sphinx were hung with portraits painted by him. Well-known journalists: Albert Londres, André Salmon, Pierre Bénard, Georges Simenon and Brewford transformed the "house" into a branch of their offices. From here they were called from the editorial office to be sent to the next report. Henry Miller, another inhabitant of the "house", created an advertising brochure in exchange for a free "service." (en)
- "Over time, having won the trust of Kruger, I penetrated into his heart. I brought him to such a state that he caught me on the street and asked if I would allow him to lend me a few francs. He wanted my soul not to part with the body before moving to a higher level. I was like a pear ripening on a tree. Sometimes I had a relapse, and I admitted that I really need money to meet more earthly needs, such as a visit to the Sphinx or St. Apollina, where he sometimes came in when his flesh was stronger than the spirit." (en)
- "One evening, when all the cafes had already closed, we all went to Le Sphinx. The experience of Toulouse-Lautrec and Van Gogh convinced me that brothels are places that are not devoid of poetry. However, it did not shock me at all. The decoration, more flashy and tasteless than the interiors of Sacré Coeur, light, half-naked women in their airy multi-colored tunics, all seemed much more decent than idiotic pictures and parks with entertainment institutions that Rimbaud liked so much." (en)
- "We dined late, went to the Folies-Bergère for an hour, and then we set out. I took them first to a cellar near Notre Dame frequented by gangsters and their molls where I knew the proprietor, and he made room for us at a long table at which were sitting some very disreputable people, but I ordered wine for all of them and we drank to one another's healths. it was hot, smoky, and dirty. Then I took them to the Sphynx where women, naked under their smart, tawdry evening dresses, their breasts, nipples and all, exposed, sit in a row on two benches opposite one another and when the band strikes up dance together listlessly with their eyes on the lookout for the men who sit round the dance hall at marble-topped tables. We ordered a bottle of warm champagne. Some of the women gave Isabel the eye as they passed us and I wondered if she knew what it meant." (en)
- "... there is no more brothel on the corner: that same "Sphinx" with his gypsies, where Henry Miller disposed of the money he did not have. Now this branch of "Bank Popular" with an ATM at the entrance. Now you can get money here when there are none!" (en)
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