My Wish Is That You May Be

The Simplest Act Of Surrealism Is To Walk Out Into The Street, Gun In Hand, And Shoot At Random.

I Myself Shall Continue Living In My Glass House Where You Can Always See Who Comes To Call, Where Everything Hanging From The The Ceiling And On The Walls Stays Where It Is As If By Magic, Where I Sleep Nights In A Glass Bed, Under Glass Sheets, Where Who I Am Will Sooner Or Later Appear Etched By A Diamond.

Humor (is) The Process That Allows One To Brush Reality Aside When It Gets Too Distressing.

The Imaginary Is What Tends To Become Real.

I Have Always Been Amazed At The Way An Ordinary Observer Lends So Much More Credence And Attaches So Much More Importance To Waking Events Than To Those Occurring In Dreams... Man...is Above All The Plaything Of His Memory.