There Is No Original Truth, Only Original

The Image Can Only Be Studied Through The Image, By Dreaming Images As They Gather In Reverie. It Is A Non-sense To Claim To Study Imagination Objectively Since One Really Receives The Image Only If He Admires It. Already In Comparing One Image To Another, One Runs The Risk Of Losing Participation In Its Individuality.

Air Is The Very Substance Of Our Freedom, The Substance Of Superhuman Joy.... Aerial Joy Is Freedom.

Of Course, Thanks To The House, A Great Many Of Our Memories Are Housed, And If The House Is A Bit Elaborate, If It Has A Cellar And A Garret, Nooks And Corridors, Our Memories Have Refuges That Are All The More Clearly Delineated. All Our Lives We Come Back To Them In Our Daydreams. A Psychoanalyst Should, Therefore, Turn His Attention To This Simple Localization Of Our Memories. I Should Like To Give The Name Of Topoanalysis To This Auxiliary Of Pyschoanalysis. Topoanalysis, Then Would Be The Systematic Psychological Study Of The Sites Of Our Intimate Lives.

Reverie Is Not A Mind Vacuum. It Is Rather The Gift Of An Hour Which Knows The Plenitude Of The Soul.

I Am A Dreamer Of Words, Of Written Words. I Think I Am Reading; A Word Stops Me. I Leave The Page. The Syllables Of The Word Begin To Move Around. Stressed Accents Begin To Invert. The Word Abandons Its Meaning Like An Overload Which Is Too Heavy And Prevents Dreaming. Then Words Take On Other Meanings As If They Had The Right To Be Young. And The Words Wander Away, Looking In The Nooks And Crannies Of Vocabulary For New Company, Bad Company.