Sometimes I Spit On My Mother's Portrait

I Dedicate This Novel To Gala, Who Was Constantly By My Side While I Was Writing It, Who Was The Good Fairy Of My Equilibrium, Who Banished The Salamanders Of My Doubts And Strengthened The Lions Of Certainties.

Surrealism Is Destructive, But It Destroys Only What It Considers To Be Shackles Limiting Our Vision.

The Difference Between False Memories And True Ones Is The Same As For Jewels: It Is Always The False Ones That Look The Most Real, The Most Brilliant.

Democratic Governments Are Not Suited To The Publication Of The Thunderous Revelations I Am In The Habit Of Making. The Unpublished Parts Will Appear Later... When Europe Will Have Restored Its Traditional Monarchies.

For Me, Love Must Be Ugly, Looks Must Be Divine, And Death Must Be Beautiful.