Light is meaningful only in relation to darkness, and truth presupposes error. It is these mingled opposites which people our life, which make it pungent, intoxicating. We only exist in terms of this conflict, in the zone where black and white clash.

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.

I demand that my books be judged with utmost severity, by knowledgeable people who know the rules of grammar and of logic, and who will seek beneath the footsteps of my commas the lice of my thought in the head of my style.

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

We know that the nature of genius is to provide idiots with ideas twenty years later.

There are strange flowers of reason to match each error of the senses.

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