Have you noticed that only death arouses our emotions? How we love thee friends who have just passed away, right? How we admire those master who no longer speak, their mouths full of dirt. We them we are not obligated.

Thinking is learning all over again how to see, directing one's consciousness, making of every image a privileged place.

Basically, at the very bottom of life, which seduces us all, there is only absurdity, and more absurdity. And maybe that's what gives us our joy for living, because the only thing that can defeat absurdity is lucidity.

I have a very old and very faithful attachment for dogs. I like them because they always forgive.

The need to be right is the sign of a vulgar mind.

One recognizes one's course by discovering the paths that stray from it.

Realism should only be the means of expression of religious genius... or, at the other extreme, the artistic expressions of monkeys which are quite satisfied with mere imitation. In fact, art is never realistic though sometimes it is tempted to be. To be really realistic a description would have to be endless.