I Have Seafoam In My Veins, I

Statues To Great Men Are Made Of The Stones Thrown At Them In Their Lifetime.

When We Awake It Is The Animal, The Plant, That Thinks In Us. Primitive Thought Without The Least Disguise. We See A Terrible Universe, Because We See Clearly. A Little Later, Intelligence Introduces Its Impeding Contrivances. It Brings The Little Toys Which Man Invents In Order To Hide The Void. It Is Then That We Think We Are Seeing Clearly. We Attribute Our Uneasiness To The Miasmas Of The Brain As It Passes From Dream To Reality.

A Picture Is Not A Window...an Abstract Refers To No Reality But Its Own.

We Are In A Period Of Such Individualism That One No Longer Speaks Of Disciples; One Speaks Of Thieves.

There Is Always A Period When A Man With A Beard Shaves It Off. This Period Does Not Last. He Returns Headlong To His Beard.