The Clouds Were Disappearing Rapidly, Leaving The

I Have Always Been Amazed At The Way An Ordinary Observer Lends So Much More Credence And Attaches So Much More Importance To Waking Events Than To Those Occurring In Dreams... Man...is Above All The Plaything Of His Memory.

Leave Everything. Leave Dada. Leave Your Wife. Leave Your Mistress. Leave Your Hopes And Fears. Leave Your Children In The Woods. Leave The Substance For The Shadow. Leave Your Easy Life, Leave What You Are Given For The Future. Set Off On The Roads.

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.

Words Have Finished Flirting. Now They Are Making Love.

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.