I Am The Wound And The Knife!

We Are Weighed Down, Every Moment, By The Conception And The Sensation Of Time. And There Are But Two Means Of Escaping And Forgetting This Nightmare: Pleasure And Work. Pleasure Consumes Us. Work Strengthens Us. Let Us Choose.

I Love The Clouds... The Clouds That Pass By... Over There... Over There... Those Lovely Clouds!

To Glorify The Cult Of Images (my Great, My Only, My Earliest Passion).

To Be Just, That Is To Say, To Justify Its Existence, Criticism Should Be Partial, Passionate And Political, That Is To Say, Written From An Exclusive Point Of View, But A Point Of View That Opens Up The Widest Horizons.

Genius Is Nothing More Nor Less Than Childhood Recaptured At Will.