Picasso said that everything is a miracle, that it’s a miracle that we don’t dissolve in our baths.
JEAN COCTEAUWe are in a period of such individualism that one no longer speaks of disciples; one speaks of thieves.
More Jean Cocteau Quotes
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It is excruciating to be an unbeliever with a spirit that is deeply religious.
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All good music resembles something. Good music stirs by its mysterious resemblance to the objects and feelings which motivated it.
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The dead drug leaves a ghost behind. At certain hours it haunts the house.
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Style is a simple way of saying complicated things.
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The joy of the young is to disobey.
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Continue reading Proust. His magnificent intelligence is particularly fond of describing stupidity. Which is ultimately exhausting.
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May the devil himself splatter you with dung.
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I have lost my seven best friends, which is to say God has had mercy on me seven times without realizing it. He lent a friendship, took it from me, sent me another.
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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.
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Youth is certain what it rejects before it knows what it will accept.
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Cultivate everything the critics hated in your first work – that’s what makes you unique.
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I’ve always preferred mythology to history. History is truth that becomes an illusion. Mythology is an illusion that becomes reality.
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There’s no such thing as love; only proof of love.
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After you have written a thing and you reread it, there is always the temptation to fix it up, to improve it, to remove its poison, blunt its sting.
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What the public criticizes in you, cultivate. It is you.
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Tact in audacity is knowing how far you can go without going too far.
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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.
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A true poet does not bother to be poetical. Nor does a nursery gardener scent his roses.
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I only fear the death of others. For me, true death is that of the people I love.
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Whatever the world condemns you for, make it your own. It is yourself.
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Do as the beautiful woman: see to your figure and your petticoats. Though, of course, I am not speaking literally.
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I feel myself inhabited by a force or being — very little known to me. It gives the orders; I follow.
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Beauty cannot be recognized with a cursory glance.
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We must believe in luck. For how else can we explain the success of those we don’t like?
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Lying is the only art form that the public sanctions and instinctively prefers to reality.
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Living is a horizontal fall.
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