I don't think there is any truth. There are only points of view.

Recent history is the record of one vast conspiracy to impose one level of mechanical consciousness on mankind.

Scientist alone is true poet he gives us the moon he promises the stars he'll make us a new universe if it comes to that.

You too must seek the sun.

To gain your own voice you have to forget about having it heard.

The apparition of an evil, sick unconscious wild city rose before me in visible semblance, and about the dead buildings in the barren air, the bodies of the soul that built the wonderland shuffled and stalked and stalked and lurched in attitudes of immemorial nightmare all around.

You can't escape the past in Paris, and yet what's so wonderful about it is that the past and present intermingle so intangibly that it doesn't seem to burden.