When we awake it is the animal, the plant, that thinks in us. Primitive thought without the least disguise. We see a terrible universe, because we see clearly. A little later, intelligence introduces its impeding contrivances. It brings the little toys which man invents in order to hide the void. It is then that we think we are seeing clearly. We attribute our uneasiness to the miasmas of the brain as it passes from dream to reality.

Perhaps I know to what extent I can go too far.

Victor Hugo was a madman who thought he was Victor Hugo

The joy of youth is to disobey; but the trouble is that there are no longer any orders.

Art is a marriage of the conscious and the unconscious.

The dead drug leaves a ghost behind. At certain hours it haunts the house.

One must be a living man and a posthumous artist.