Love Is When You Meet Someone Who

May Night Continue To Fall Upon The Orchestra

Nothing That Surrounds Us Is Object, All Is Subject.

No One Who Has Lived Even For A Fleeting Moment For Something Other Than Life In Its Conventional Sense And Has Experienced The Exaltation That This Feeling Produces Can Then Renounce His New Freedom So Easily.

Surrealism, N. Pure Psychic Automatism, By Which It Is Intended To Express, Whether Verbally Or In Writing, Or In Any Other Way, The Real Process Of Thought. Thought's Dictation, Free From Any Control By The Reason, Independent Of Any Aesthetic Or Moral Preoccupation.

A Game: Say Something. Close Your Eyes And Say Something. Anything, A Number, A Name. Like This (she Closes Her Eyes): Two, Two What? Two Women. What Do They Look Like? Wearing Black. Where Are They? In A Park. . . . And Then, What Are They Doing? Try It, It's So Easy, Why Don't You Want To Play? You Know, That's How I Talk To Myself When I'm Alone, I Tell Myself All Kinds Of Stories. And Not Only Silly Stories: Actually, I Live This Way Altogether.