I only fear the death of others. For me, true death is that of the people I love.
JEAN COCTEAUI have not looked at a newspaper in twenty years; if one is brought into the room, I flee. This is not because I am indifferent but because one cannot follow every road.
More Jean Cocteau Quotes
-
-
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.
JEAN COCTEAU -
After the writer’s death, reading his journal is like receiving a long letter.
JEAN COCTEAU -
You have comfort. You don’t have luxury. And don’t tell me that money plays a part. The luxury I advocate has nothing to do with money. It cannot be bought. It is the reward of those who have NO Fear or Discomfort.
JEAN COCTEAU -
The artist is a kind of prison from which the works of art escape.
JEAN COCTEAU -
Children and lunatics cut the Gordian knot which the poet spends his life patiently trying to untie.
JEAN COCTEAU -
We are in a period of such individualism that one no longer speaks of disciples; one speaks of thieves.
JEAN COCTEAU -
The poet, by composing poems, uses a language that is neither dead nor living, that few people speak, and few people understand We are the servants of an unknown force that lives within us, manipulates us, and dictates this language to us.
JEAN COCTEAU -
Picasso said that everything is a miracle, that it’s a miracle that we don’t dissolve in our baths.
JEAN COCTEAU -
French people are Italian people in a bad mood.
JEAN COCTEAU -
Art produces ugly things which frequently become more beautiful with time. Fashion, on the other hand, produces beautiful things which always become ugly with time.
JEAN COCTEAU -
We must believe in luck. For how else can we explain the success of those we don’t like?
JEAN COCTEAU -
The speed of a runaway horse counts for nothing.
JEAN COCTEAU -
Since these mysteries exceed my grasp, I shall pretend to have organized them.
JEAN COCTEAU -
Film will only became an art when its materials are as inexpensive as pencil and paper.
JEAN COCTEAU -
May the devil himself splatter you with dung.
JEAN COCTEAU