Worse than not realizing the dreams of your youth, would be to have been young and never dreamed at all.
Solitude, as I understand it, does not signify an unhappy state, but rather secret royalty, profound incommunicability yet a more or less obscure knowledge of an invulnerable singularity.
A man must dream a long time in order to act with grandeur, and dreaming is nursed in darkness.
The pimp has a grin, never a smile.
If we behave like those on the other side, then we are the other side. Instead of changing the world, all we'll achieve is a reflection of the one we want to destroy.
Men endowed with a wild imagination should have, in addition, the great poetic faculty of denying our universe and its values so that they may act upon it with sovereign ease.
Perhaps all music, even the newest, is not so much something discovered as something that re-emerges from where it lay buried in the memory, inaudible as a melody cut in a disc of flesh. A composer lets me hear a song that has always been shut up silent within me.
There are mornings when all men experience with fatigue a flush of tenderness that makes them horny.
Beauty has no other origin than the singular wound, different in every case, hidden or visible, which each man bears within himself, which he preserves, and into which he withdraws when he would quit the world for a temporary but authentic solitude
To achieve harmony in bad taste is the height of elegance.
I'm homosexual. How and why are idle questions. It's a little like wanting to know why my eyes are green.
Anyone who hasn't experienced the ecstasy of betrayal knows nothing about ecstasy at all.
In reviewing my life, in tracing its course, I fill my cell with the pleasure of being what for want of a trifle I failed to be, recapturing, so that I may hurl myself into them as into dark pits, those moments when I strayed through the trap-ridden compartments of a subterranean sky
It's the hour when night breaks away from the day, my dove, let me go.
The time for reasoning is past; now's the time to get steamed up and fight like mad.
I wanted to swallow myself by opening my mouth very wide and turning it over my head so that it would take in my whole body, and then the Universe, until all that would remain of me would be a ball of eaten thing which little by little would be annihilated: that is how I see the end of the world.
My heart's in my hand, and my hand is pierced, and my hand's in the bag, and the bag is shut, and my heart is caught.
The main object of a revolution is the liberation of man... not the interpretation and application of some transcendental ideology.
Poetry is the break (or rather the meeting at the breaking point) between the visible and the invisible.
Ah those knock-out body fluids: blood, sperm, tears!
Love makes use of the worst traps. The least noble. The rarest. It exploits coincidence.
There is a close relationship between flowers and convicts. The fragility and delicacy of the former are of the same nature as the brutal insensitivity of the latter.
Creation is not a light-hearted game. The creator commits to a terrible adventure, which is to take up-on himself all of the dangers that his creatures run.
Erotic play discloses a nameless world which is revealed by the nocturnal language of lovers. Such language is not written down. It is whispered into the ear at night in a hoarse voice. At dawn it is forgotten.
Added to the moral solitude of the murderer comes the solitude of the artist, which can acknowledge no authority, save that of another artist.
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