The Dream Remains Overloaded With The Badly

The Metaphor Is~ An Origin, The Origin Of An Image Which Acts Directly, Immediately.

The Poetic Image […] Is Not An Echo Of The Past. On The Contrary: Through The Brilliance Of Any Image, The Distant Past Resounds With Echoes.

A Clear Conscience Is, For Me, An Occupied Conscience-never Empty-the Conscience Of A Man At Work Until His Last Breath.

We Believe We Can Also Show That Words Do Not Have Exactly The Same Psychic "weight" Depending On Whether They Belong To The Language Of Reverie Or To The Language Of Daylight Life-to Rested Language Or Language Under Surveillance-to The Language Of Natural Poetry Or To The Language Hammered Out By Authoritarian Prosodies.

A Universe Comes To Contribute To Our Happiness When Reverie Comes To Accentuate Our Repose. You Must Tell The Man Who Wants To Dream Well To Begin By Being Happy. Then Reverie Plays Out Its Veritable Destiny; It Becomes Poetic Reverie And By It, In It, Everything Becomes Beautiful. If The Dreamer Had "the Gift" He Would Turn His Reverie Into A Work. And This Work Would Be Grandiose Since The Dreamed World Is Automatically Grandiose.