The Mind Which Plunges Into Surrealism, Relives

There Are Fairy Stories To Be Written For Adults. Stories That Are Still In A Green State.

May Night Continue To Fall Upon The Orchestra

The Purest Surrealist Act Is Walking Into A Crowd With A Loaded Gun And Firing Into It Randomly

How I Loathe The Servitude People Try To Hold Up To Me As Being So Valuable. I Pity The Man Who Is Condemned To It, Who Cannot Generally Escape It, But It Is Not The Burden Of His Labor That Disposes Me In His Favor, It Is - It Can Only Be - The Vigor Of His Protest Against It.

I Have Always Been Amazed At The Way An Ordinary Observer Lends So Much More Credence And Attaches So Much More Importance To Waking Events Than To Those Occurring In Dreams... Man...is Above All The Plaything Of His Memory.