Our Memory Is Our Coherence, Our Reason,

Age Is Something That Doesn't Matter Unless You're A Cheese

I Say To Hell With The Work You Have To Do To Earn A Living! That Kind Of Work Does Us No Honor; All It Does Is Fill Up The Bellies Of The Pigs Who Exploit Us. But The Work You Do Because You Like To Do It, Because You've Heard The Call, You've Got A Vocation - That's Ennobling! We Should All Be Able To Work Like That. Look At Me, Saturno - I Don't Work. And I Don't Care If They Hang Me, I Won't Work! Yet I'm Alive! I May Live Badly, But At Least I Don't Have To Work To Do It!

The Cinema Seems To Have Been Invented To Express The Life Of The Subconscious, The Roots Of Which Penetrate Poetry So Deeply

If We Could Only Find The Courage To Leave Our Destiny To Chance, To Accept The Fundamental Mystery Of Our Lives, Then We Might Be Closer To The Sort Of Happiness That Comes With Innocence.

Luis Bunuel's Two Semishort Surrealist Hand Grenades (cowritten In Varying Degrees With Salvador Dali) Make A Double Bill That Can Restore Your Faith In The Subversions Of Youth. Pure Spanish-parisian Piss And Vinegar.