Surrealism is merely the reflection of the death process. It is one of the manifestations of a life becoming extinct, a virus which quickens the inevitable end.

With this book in my hands, reading aloud to my friends, questioning them, explaining to them, I was made clearly to understand that I had no friends, that I was alone in the world. Because in not understanding the meaning of the words, neither I nor my friends, one thing became very clear and that was that there were ways of not understanding and that the difference between the non-understanding of one individual and the non-understanding of another created a world of terra firma even more solid than differences of understanding.

In every man's heart there is anchored a little schooner.

On the meridian of time, there is no injustice: there is only the poetry of motion creating the illusion of truth and drama.

Somewhere along the way one discovers that what one has to tell is not nearly so important as the telling itself.

Until we accept the fact that life itself is founded in mystery, we shall learn nothing.

The blind lead the blind. It's the democratic way.