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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 have a piece of great and sad news to tell you: I am dead.
JEAN COCTEAU

Death Greatness Media Myself News Pieces Sad Yourself
If a poet has a dream, it is not of becoming famous, but of being believed.
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Believe Deep Dreams Famous Poet
Lying is the only art form that the public sanctions and instinctively prefers to reality.
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Art Lying Preference Reality
Since these mysteries exceed my grasp, I shall pretend to have organized them.
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Myself Mystery Organization Pretend
French people are Italian people in a bad mood.
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Attitude Bad Identity Mood People Personality
I love cats because I enjoy my home; and little by little, they become its visible soul.
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Animal Cat Enjoyment Home Love Myself Soul Visible
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.
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Comfortable Fear Luxury Money Play Reward
Tact in audacity is knowing how far you can go without going too far.
JEAN COCTEAU

Audacity Far Journey Yourself
What the public criticizes in you, cultivate. It is you.
JEAN COCTEAU

Criticism Cultivate Hate Inspirational Motivational Public Yourself
May the devil himself splatter you with dung.
JEAN COCTEAU

Devil Dirty Yourself
The speed of a runaway horse counts for nothing.
JEAN COCTEAU

Animal Count Horse Speed Wasted
The artist is a kind of prison from which the works of art escape.
JEAN COCTEAU

Artist Escape Kind Prison Work
If it has to choose who is to be crucified, the crowd will always save Barabbas.
JEAN COCTEAU

Choice Death Kill Option Save Torture
My method is simple: not to bother about poetry. It must come of its own accord. Merely whispering its name drives it away.
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Drive Myself Name Poetry Simplicity Wait
One must not mistake majority for truth.
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Deep Mistake One Liner Oneself Truth
Elegance ceases to exist when it is noticed.
JEAN COCTEAU

Elegant Existence Notice
Poetry is indispensable – if I only knew what for.
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Myself Poetry Reason
It is not I who become addicted, it is my body.
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Addiction Body Oneself
Since the day of my birth, my death began its walk. It is walking toward me, without hurrying.
JEAN COCTEAU

Beginning Born Death Deep Life Myself Perspective Rush Walk
I have seafoam in my veins, I understand the language of waves.
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Language Myself Nature Ocean Understand
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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Creation Force Himself Language Live Manipulation People Poem Poet Understand
Appreciation of art is a moral erection, otherwise mere dilettantism.
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Art Moral Praise
The prettiest dresses are worn to be taken off.
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Beautiful Clothes Sex
The only way to kill death is through photography.
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Camera Death Kill Photography Way
The dead drug leaves a ghost behind. At certain hours it haunts the house.
JEAN COCTEAU

Death Drugs Ghost Home
The extreme limit of wisdom, that’s what the public calls madness.
JEAN COCTEAU

Call Limitation Public Wisdom
Wealth is an inborn attitude of mind, like poverty. The pauper who has made his pile may flaunt his spoils, but cannot wear them plausibly.
JEAN COCTEAU

Attitude Born Himself Mindset Wealth

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