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

Surrealism is based on the belief in the omnipotence of dreams, in the undirected play of thought.

It is impossible for me to envisage a picture as being other than a window, and why my first concern is then to know what it looks out on.

Every time you date someone with an issue that you have to work to ignore, you're settling.

No one who has lived even for a fleeting moment for something other than life in its conventional sense and has experienced the exaltation that this feeling produces can then renounce his new freedom so easily.

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.

The simplest Surrealist act consists of dashing down the street, pistol in hand, and firing blindly, as fast as you can pull the trigger, into the crowd. Anyone who, at least once in his life, has not dreamed of thus putting an end to the petty system of debasement and cretinization in effect has a well-defined place in that crowd with his belly at barrel-level.