I love my work with a frenetic and perverse love as an ascetic loves the hair shirt which scratches his belly.
I love my work with a frenetic and perverse love as an ascetic loves the hair shirt which scratches his belly.
Author: Gustave Flaubert
The better a work is the more it attracts criticism it is like the fleas who rush to jump on white linens.
The better a work is the more it attracts criticism it is like the fleas who rush to jump on white linens.
Be regular and orderly in your life so that you may be violent and original in your work.
Be regular and orderly in your life so that you may be violent and original in your work.
There is no truth. There is only perception.
There is no truth. There is only perception.
Success is a consequence and must not be a goal.
Success is a consequence and must not be a goal.
All one's inventions are true you can be sure of that. Poetry is as exact a science as geometry.
All one's inventions are true you can be sure of that. Poetry is as exact a science as geometry.
Poetry is as precise a thing as geometry.
Poetry is as precise a thing as geometry.
Everything one invents is true you may be perfectly sure of that. Poetry is as precise as geometry.
Everything one invents is true you may be perfectly sure of that. Poetry is as precise as geometry.
Caught up in life you see it badly. You suffer from it or enjoy it too much. The artist in my opinion is a monstrosity something outside of nature.
Caught up in life you see it badly. You suffer from it or enjoy it too much. The artist in my opinion is a monstrosity something outside of nature.
Stupidity is something unshakable nothing attacks it without breaking itself against it it is of the nature of granite hard and resistant.
Stupidity is something unshakable nothing attacks it without breaking itself against it it is of the nature of granite hard and resistant.
I believe that if one always looked at the skies one would end up with wings.
I believe that if one always looked at the skies one would end up with wings.
Human speech is like a cracked kettle on which we tap crude rhythms for bears to dance to while we long to make music that will melt the stars.
Human speech is like a cracked kettle on which we tap crude rhythms for bears to dance to while we long to make music that will melt the stars.