Everything That Is Not Me Is Incomprehensible.

I Shall Always Rebel Against Any Attempt To Reduce A Human Being To A Kind Of Mannequin, Whose Deeds And Questions Would Be Comprehensible Like The Deeds And Gestures Of Monarchs Recorded Day After Day In Official Communiques. Six Months Of A Life Cannot Catalogue The Vitality, The Activity Of An Individual; Only Death Stops Development And Then, What Is Important Is The Overall Meaning Of A Life, Not The Details Of That Life, Edifying To Some, Scandalous To Others.

The Painting Of Tomorrow Will Use The Photographic Eye As It Has Used The Human Eye.

There Are Other Relations Besides Reality, Which The Mind Is Capable Of Grasping And Which Also Are Primary, Like Chance, Illusion, The Fantastic, The Dream.

Reality Is The Apparent Absence Of Contradiction. The Marvelous Is The Eruption Of Contradiction Within The Real.

I Demand That My Books Be Judged With Utmost Severity, By Knowledgeable People Who Know The Rules Of Grammar And Of Logic, And Who Will Seek Beneath The Footsteps Of My Commas The Lice Of My Thought In The Head Of My Style.