All My Life, My Heart Has Yearned

Leave Everything. Leave Dada. Leave Your Wife. Leave Your Mistress. Leave Your Hopes And Fears. Leave Your Children In The Woods. Leave The Substance For The Shadow. Leave Your Easy Life, Leave What You Are Given For The Future. Set Off On The Roads.

The Invention Of Photography Has Dealt A Mortal Blow To The Old Modes Of Expression, In Painting As Well As In Poetry, Where Automatic Writing, Which Appeared At The End Of The Nineteenth Century, Is A True Photography Of Thought. Since A Blind Instrument Now Assured Artists Of Achieving The Aim They Had Set Themselves Up To That Time, They Now Aspired, Not Without Recklessness, To Break With The Imitation Of Appearances.

Surrealism Will Usher You Into Death, Which Is A Secret Society. It Will Glove Your Hand, Burying Therein The Profound M With Which The Word Memory Begins. Do Not Forget To Make Proper Arrangements For Your Last Will And Testament: Speaking Personally, I Ask That I Be Taken To The Cemetery In A Moving Van. May My Friends Destroy Every Last Copy Of The Printing Of The Speech Concerning The Modicum Of Reality.

How Small These Rescued Tides Appear! Earthly Delights Flow In Torrents. Each Object Offers Paradise.

I Insist On Knowing The Names, On Being Interested Only In Books Left Ajar, Like Doors; I Will Not Go Looking For Keys.