Someone like myself, who claimed to be a real madman, living and organized with a Pythagorean precision.

Photographic fantasy: more agile and faster in discoveries than murky subconscious processes!

Every morning upon awakening, I experience a supreme pleasure: that of being Salvador Dali, and I ask myself, wonderstruck, what prodigious thing will he do today, this Salvador Dali.

Whatever happens, my audience mustn't know whether I am spoofing or being serious; and likewise I mustn't know either. I am in a constant interrogation; when does the deep and philosophically valid Dali begin, and where does the looney and preposterous Dali end?

The two greatest strokes of luck that can happen to a painter are (1) to be Spanish, (2) to be called Dali

Right now I'm the greatest. I don't say this through vanity. It's just that the rest are so bad.

Give me two hours a day of activity, and I'll take the other twenty-two in dreams.