No rules exist, and examples are simply life-savers answering the appeals of rules making vain attempts to exist.

We all love conflagrations. When the sky changes color, it is a dead man's passing.

Nothing retains less of desire in art, in science, than this will to industry, booty, possession.

The pure playfulness of certain wholly whimsical portions of (Charles) Cros’s work should not obscure the fact that at the center of some of his most beautiful poems a revolver is leveled straight at us.

Psychic automatism in its pure state, by which one proposes to express - verbally, by means of the written word, or in any other manner - the actual functioning of thought. Dictated by the thought, in the absence of any control exercised by reason, exempt from any aesthetic or moral concern.

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

If surrealism ever comes to adopt a particular line of moral conduct, it has only to accept the discipline that Picasso has accepted and will continue to accept.