Surrealism Is A Bourgeois Disaffection; That Its

Tamed As It May Be, Sexuality Remains One Of The Demonic Forces In Human Consciousness - Pushing Us At Intervals Close To Taboo And Dangerous Desires, Which Range From The Impulse To Commit Sudden Arbitrary Violence Upon Another Person To The Voluptuous Yearning For The Extinction Of One's Consciousness, For Death Itself. Even On The Level Of Simple Physical Sensation And Mood, Making Love Surely Resembles Having An Epileptic Fit At Least As Much As, If Not More Than, It Does Eating A Meal Or Conversing With Someone.

Writing Is A Little Door. Some Fantasies, Like Big Pieces Of Furniture, Won’t Come Through.

[on Marriage:] It Is An Institution Committed To The Dulling Of The Feelings.

Real Art Has The Capacity To Make Us Nervous.

In The Journal I Do Not Just Express Myself More Openly Than I Could To Any Person; I Create Myself.