Towns are full of people, houses full of tenants, hotels full of guests, trains full of travelers, cafés full of customers, parks full of promenaders, consulting-rooms of famous doctors full of patients, theatres full of spectators, and beaches full of bathers. What previously was, in general, no problem, now begins to be an everyday one, namely, to find room.

The poet begins where the man ends. The man's lot is to live his human life, the poet's to invent what is nonexistent.

The man who discovers a new scientific truth has previously had to smash to atoms almost everything he had learnt, and arrives at the new truth with hands blood stained from the slaughter of a thousand platitudes.

The choice of a point of view is the initial act of a culture.

The hero's will is not that of his ancestors nor of his society, but his own. This will to be oneself is heroism.

Poetry has become the higher algebra of metaphors.

These are the only genuine ideas, the ideas of the shipwrecked. All the rest is rhetoric, posturing, farce.