Art Does Not Tolerate Reason.

The One Who Doesnt Play, Doesnt Win Anything, But He Actually Looses Somehting, {playing}

The Act Of Love Is A Confession.

When The Imagination Sleeps, Words Are Emptied Of Their Meaning: A Deaf Population Absent-mindedly Registers The Condemnation Of A Man. ... There Is No Other Solution But To Speak Out And Show The Obscenity Hidden Under The Verbal Cloak.

Ah! My Friend, For Whomever Is Alone, Without A God And Without A Master, The Weight Of Time Is Terrible. One Must Then Choose A Master, God Being Out Of Style.

We Rarely Confide In Those Who Are Better Than We Are.