The Poet Paul Éluard Says That To

The Job Of The Poet (a Job Which Can't Be Learned) Consists Of Placing Those Objects Of The Visible World Which Have Become Invisible Due To The Glue Of Habit, In An Unusual Position Which Strikes The Soul And Gives Them A Tragic Force.

Catastrophe, Riots, Factories Blowing Up, Armies In Flight, Flood - The Ear Can Detect A Whole Apocalypse In The Starry Night Of The Human Body.

Everyone's Pet Is The Most Outstanding. This Begets Mutual Blindness.

The Poet Never Asks For Admiration; He Wants To Be Believed.

May The Devil Himself Splatter You With Dung.