What The Public Criticizes In You, Cultivate.

I Have Never Felt Any Connection With My Family. There Is—i Must Say Simply—something In Me That Is Not In My Family. That Was Not Visible In My Father Or Mother. I Do Not Know Its Origin.

The Greatest Masterpiece In Literature Is Only A Dictionary Out Of Order.

Since It's Now Fashionable To Laugh At The Conservative French Academy, I Have Remained A Rebel By Joining It.

When We Awake It Is The Animal, The Plant, That Thinks In Us. Primitive Thought Without The Least Disguise. We See A Terrible Universe, Because We See Clearly. A Little Later, Intelligence Introduces Its Impeding Contrivances. It Brings The Little Toys Which Man Invents In Order To Hide The Void. It Is Then That We Think We Are Seeing Clearly. We Attribute Our Uneasiness To The Miasmas Of The Brain As It Passes From Dream To Reality.

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.