It will in the end, be admitted that everything, in effect is an image and that the least object which has no symbolic role assigned to it is capable of standing for absolutely anything.

Past and future monopolize the poet’s sensory and intellectual faculties, detached from the immediate spectacle. These two philtres become utterly clear the moment one stops being hypnotized by the cloudy precipitate constituted by the world of today.

I insist on knowing the names, on being interested only in books left ajar, like doors; I will not go looking for keys.

Keep reminding yourself that literature is one of the saddest roads that leads to everything.

Beauty will be convulsive or will not be at all.

Surrealism does not allow those who devote themselves to it to forsake it whenever they like. There is every reason to believe that it acts on the mind very much as drugs do; like drugs, it creates a certain state of need and can push man to frightful revolts.

Love is when you meet someone who tells you something new about yourself.