Perhaps I am doomed to retrace my steps under the illusion that I am exploring, doomed to try and learn what I should simply recognize, learning a mere fraction of what I have forgotten.

Of all those arts in which the wise excel, Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well.

Words make love with one another.

Dali is like a man who hesitates between talent and genius, or, as one might once have said, between vice and virtue.

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.

All my life, my heart has yearned for a thing I cannot name.