There are children who will leave a game to go and be bored in a corner of the garret. How often have I wished for the attic of my boredom when the complications of life made me lose the very germ of freedom!

In living off all the reflecting light furnished by poets, the I which dreams the reverie reveals itself not as poet but as poetizing I.

Air is the very substance of our freedom, the substance of superhuman joy.... aerial joy is freedom.

A house that has been experienced is not an inert box. Inhabited space transcends geometrical space.

An excess of childhood is the germ of a poem.

Daydream transports the dreamer outside the immediate world to a world that bears the mark of infinity.

Through imagination, thanks to the subtleties of the irreality function, we re-enter the world of confidence, the world of the confident being, which is the proper world for reverie.