A Man Who Wants To Mutilate Himself

The Poet, Therefore, Is Truly The Thief Of Fire. He Is Responsible For Humanity, For Animals Even; He Will Have To Make Sure His Visions Can Be Smelled, Fondled, Listened To; If What He Brings Back From Beyond Has Form, He Gives It Form; If It Has None, He Gives It None. A Language Must Be Found…of The Soul, For The Soul And Will Include Everything: Perfumes, Sounds Colors, Thought Grappling With Thought

I Believe That I Am In Hell, Therefore I Am There.

True Life Is Elsewhere

I Shed More Tears Than God Could Ever Have Required.

Then You'll Feel Your Cheek Scratched... A Little Kiss, Like A Crazy Spider, Will Run Round Your Neck... And You'll Say To Me : "find It !" Bending Your Head - And We'll Take A Long Time To Find That Creature - Which Travels A Lot.