I love cats because I enjoy my home; and little by little, they become its visible soul.

Be a mere assistant to your unconscious. Do only half the work. The rest will do itself.

Take a commonplace, clean it and polish it, light it so that it produces the same effect of youth and freshness and originality and spontaneity as it did originally, and you have done a poet's job. The rest is literature.

It is not inspiration; it is expiration.

I have a piece of great and sad news to tell you: I am dead.

The runner stopped dead, lost his balance, froze in one of those violent attitudes in which the photographers petrify living reality.

The spirit of creation is the spirit of contradiction. It is the breakthrough of appearances toward an unknown reality.