...with The End Of My Breath, Which

Life’s Greatest Gift Is The Freedom It Leaves You To Step Out Of It Whenever You Choose.

Surrealism Does Not Allow Those Who Devote Themselves To It To Forsake It Whenever They Like. There Is Every Reason To Believe That It Acts On The Mind Very Much As Drugs Do; Like Drugs, It Creates A Certain State Of Need And Can Push Man To Frightful Revolts.

Under His (marc Chagall, Ed.) Sole Impulse Metaphor Made Its Triumphal Entry Into Modern Painting.

Surrealism Is Based On The Belief In The Superior Reality Of Certain Forms Of Previously Neglected Associations, In The Omnipotence Of Dreams, In The Disinterested Play Of Thought. It Tends To Ruin Once And For All Other Psychic Mechanisms And To Substitute Itself For Them In Solving All The Principle Problems Of Life.

The Simplest Surrealist Act Consists Of Dashing Down The Street, Pistol In Hand, And Firing Blindly, As Fast As You Can Pull The Trigger, Into The Crowd. Anyone Who, At Least Once In His Life, Has Not Dreamed Of Thus Putting An End To The Petty System Of Debasement And Cretinization In Effect Has A Well-defined Place In That Crowd With His Belly At Barrel-level.