For each man there awaits... a particular image capable of annihilating the entire universe.

O reason, reason, abstract phantom of the waking state, I had already expelled you from my dreams, now I have reached a point where those dreams are about to become fused with apparent realities: now there is only room here for myself.

Photography intervenes in a very strange way. It makes the streets, gates, squares of the city into illustrations of a trashy novel, draws off the banal obviousness of this ancient architecture to inject it with the most pristine intensity.

The carnal contact side by side, from heel to armpit, brings shudders that shake up nature like the flights of nocturnal birds.

It sometimes happens that pleasure blows anywhere it damn well chooses.

For each man there awaits... a particular image capable of annihilating the entire universe.

Your imagination, my dear fellow, is worth more than you imagine.