It Is Hard Not To See Into

I Maintain That Anyone Who Still Refuses To See, For Instance, A Horse Galloping On A Tomato, Must Be An Idiot. A Tomato Is Also A Child's Balloon - Surrealism, Again, Having Suppressed The Word "like."

The Mere Word Freedom Is The Only One That Still Excites Me. I Deem It Capable Of Indefinitely Sustaining The Old Human Fanaticism. It Doubtless Satisfies My Only Legitimate Aspiration. Among All The Many Misfortunes To Which We Are Heir, It Is Only Fair To Admit That We Are Allowed The Greatest Degree Of Freedom Of Thought. It Is Up To Us Not To Misuse It. To Reduce The Imagination To A State Of Slavery-even Though It Would Mean The Elimination Of What Is Commonly Called Happiness-is To Betray All Sense Of Absolute Justice Within Oneself.

Psychic Automatism In Its Pure State, By Which One Proposes To Express - Verbally, By Means Of The Written Word, Or In Any Other Manner - The Actual Functioning Of Thought. Dictated By The Thought, In The Absence Of Any Control Exercised By Reason, Exempt From Any Aesthetic Or Moral Concern.

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.

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