Henceforth I would have to cosent to combine two voices: the voice of banality (to say what everyone sees and knows) and the voice of singularity (to replenish such banality with all the élan of an emotion which belonged only to myself).

I am interested in language because it wounds or seduces me.

I passed beyond the unreality of the thing represented, I entered crazily into the spectacle, into the image, taking into my arms what is dead, what is going to die.

Through the mythology of Einstein, the world blissfully regained the image of knowledge reduced to a formula.

Are not couturiers the poets who, from year to year, from strophe to strophe, write the anthem of the feminine body?

Great portrait photographers are great mythologists.

We know that the war against intelligence is always waged in the name of common sense.