It Is Living And Ceasing To Live

The Simplest Surrealist Act Consists Of Dashing Down Into The Street, Pistol In Hand, And Firing Blindly, As Fast As You Can Pull The Trigger, Into The Crowd.

It Will In The End, Be Admitted That Everything, In Effect Is An Image And That The Least Object Which Has No Symbolic Role Assigned To It Is Capable Of Standing For Absolutely Anything.

It Is More Or Less A Given That Nothing Is Less Favorable To Clairvoyance Than The Bright Sun: Physical Light And Mental Light Coexist On Very Poor Terms.

When Will The Arbitrary Be Granted The Place It Deserves In The Formation Of Works And Ideas?

I Myself Shall Continue Living In My Glass House Where You Can Always See Who Comes To Call, Where Everything Hanging From The The Ceiling And On The Walls Stays Where It Is As If By Magic, Where I Sleep Nights In A Glass Bed, Under Glass Sheets, Where Who I Am Will Sooner Or Later Appear Etched By A Diamond.