“The dead drug leaves a ghost behind. At certain hours it haunts the house.”

Man seeks to escape himself in myth, and does so by any means at his disposal. Drugs, alcohol, or lies. Unable to withdraw into himself, he disguises himself. Lies and inaccuracy give him a few moments of comfort.

And now I have to confess the unpardonable and the scandalous. I am a happy man. And I am going to tell you the secret of my happiness. It is quite simple. I love mankind. I love love. I hate hate. I try to understand and accept.

Everything one does in life, even love, occurs in an express train racing toward death. To smoke opium is to get out of the train while it is still moving. It is to concern oneself with something other than life or death.

Elegance ceases to exist when it is noticed.

The ability to laugh heartily is the sign of a healthy soul.

One of the characteristics of the dream is that nothing surprises us in it. With no regret, we agree to live in it with strangers, completely cut off from our habits and friends.

Mirrors should think longer before they reflect.

The reward of art is not fame or success but intoxication: that is why so many bad artists are unable to give it up.

I’ve always preferred mythology to history. History is truth that becomes an illusion. Mythology is an illusion that becomes reality.

Anything of any importance cannot help but be unrecognizable, since it bears no resemblance to anything already known.

Mystery has its own mysteries, and there are gods above gods. We have ours, they have theirs. That is what’s known as infinity.

Living is a horizontal fall.

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth.

May the devil himself splatter you with dung.

One must not mistake majority for truth.

An original artist is unable to copy. So he has only to copy in order to be original.

When you die it’s the same as if everybody else did too.

Why do you press harder on a remote-control when you know the battery’s dead?

The young man, born to rule England, which his dying father commended to him. Once his father is dead, London will cavil. The kingdom is taken back from his son.

You are what it feels like to watch the final silvers of sun fall and die into the silver ocean; tangerine sky giving way to moon-glow and starlight.

I promise I shall never give up, and that I’ll die yelling and laughing, and that until then I’ll rush around this world I insist is holy and pull at everyone’s lapel and make them confess to me and to all.

Hypocrisy is the characteristic feature of the dying bourgeois epoch.

The sudden death of the leading man will cause change, making another man leader. Soon, but too late, the young man will attain high office. By land and sea, he will be feared.

The life is worth living. It’s not true, what the tired and reactionary say. We’re not on this earth to suffer and die. We’re here to fulfill a mission.