There is no art without intoxication. But I mean a mad intoxication! Let reason teeter! Delirium!

The things we truly love, the things forming the basis and roots of our being, are generally things we never look at. A huge piece of carpeting, empty and naked plains, silent and uninterrupted stretches with nothing to alter the homogeneity of their continuity. I love wide, homogenous worlds, unstaked, unlimited like the sea, like high snows, deserts, and steppes.

The real function of art is to change mental patterns ... making new thought possible.

Art must make you laugh a little and make you a little afraid. Anything as long as it doesn't bore.

Personally, I believe very much in values of savagery; I mean: instinct, passion, mood, violence, madness.

Art doesn't go to sleep in the bed made for it. It would sooner run away than say its own name: what it likes is to be incognito. Its best moments are when it forgets what its own name is.

For me, insanity is super sanity. The normal is psychotic. Normal means lack of imagination, lack of creativity.