How Our Old Friend [michelangelo] Of The

Be A Mere Assistant To Your Unconscious. Do Only Half The Work. The Rest Will Do Itself.

Expect Neither Reward Nor Beatitude. Return Noble Waves For Ignoble.

Commissions Suit Me. They Set Limits. Jean Marais Dared Me To Write Play In Which He Would Not Speak In The First Act, Would Weep For Joy In The Second And In The Last Would Fall Backward Down A Flight Of Stairs.

The Ear Disapproves But Tolerates Certain Musical Pieces; Transfer Them Into The Domain Of Our Nose, And We Will Be Forced To Flee.

It Is Not Inspiration; It Is Expiration.