I feel that America is essentially against the artist, that the enemy of America is the artist, because he stands for individuality and creativeness, and that's un-American somehow.

Honest criticism means nothing: what one wants is unrestrained passion, fire for fire.

France may one day exist no more, but the Dordogne will live on just as dreams live on and nourish the souls of men.

Everything remains unsettled forever, depend on it

I feel that America is essentially against the artist, that the enemy of America is the artist, because he stands for individuality and creativeness, and that's un-American somehow.

Work on one thing at a time until finished.

Whenever a taboo is broken, something good happens, something vitalizing. Taboos after all are only hangovers, the product of diseased minds, you might say, of fearsome people who hadn't the courage to live and who under the guise of morality and religion have imposed these things upon us.