Love is when you meet someone who tells you something new about yourself.
The man that cannot visualize a horse galloping on a tomato is an idiot
It is living and ceasing to live that are imaginary solutions. Existence is elsewhere.
Words make love with one another.
Perhaps I am doomed to retrace my steps under the illusion that I am exploring, doomed to try and learn what I should simply recognize, learning a mere fraction of what I have forgotten.
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.
To reduce the imagination to a state of slavery -even though it would mean the elimination of what is commonly called happiness -is to betray all sense of absolute justice within oneself. Imagination alone offers me some intimation of what can be.
Everything tends to make us believe that there exists a certain point of the mind at which life and death, the real and the imagined, past and future, the communicable and the incommunicable, high and low, cease to be perceived as contradictions.
No rules exist, and examples are simply life-savers answering the appeals of rules making vain attempts to exist.
Of all those arts in which the wise excel, Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well.
If I place love above everything, it is because for me it is the most desperate, the most despairing state of affairs imaginable.
I could spend my whole life prying loose the secrets of the insane. These people are honest to a fault, and their naivety has no peer but my own.
All my life, my heart has yearned for a thing I cannot name.
No one who has lived even for a fleeting moment for something other than life in its conventional sense and has experienced the exaltation that this feeling produces can then renounce his new freedom so easily.
Nothing retains less of desire in art, in science, than this will to industry, booty, possession.