Artistic Imagination Must Remain Free. It Is

I Insist On Knowing The Names, On Being Interested Only In Books Left Ajar, Like Doors; I Will Not Go Looking For Keys.

There Is Nothing With Which It Is So Dangerous To Take Liberties As Liberty Itself.

To Speak Of God, To Think Of God, Is In Every Respect To Show What One Is Made Of. I Have Always Wagered Against God And I Regard The Little That I Have Won In This World As Simply The Outcome Of This Bet. However Paltry May Have Been The Stake (my Life) I Am Conscious Of Having Won To The Full. Everything That Is Doddering, Squint-eyed, Vile, Polluted And Grotesque Is Summoned Up For Me In That One Word: God!

Nothing Retains Less Of Desire In Art, In Science, Than This Will To Industry, Booty, Possession.

What’s The Good Of These Great Fragile Fits Of Enthusiasm, These Jaded Jumps Of Joys? We Know Nothing Anymore, But The Dead Stars; We Gaze At Their Faces; And We Gasp With Pleasure. Our Mouths Are Dry As The Lost Beaches, And Our Eyes Turn Aimlessly And Without Hope. Now All That Remain Are These Cafés Where We Meet To Drink These Cool Drinks, These Diluted Spirits, And The Tables Are Stickier Than The Pavements Where Our Shadows Of The Day Before Have Fallen.