We All Love Conflagrations. When

I Find It Impossible To Think Of A Picture Save As A Window, And My First Concern About A Window Is To Find Out What It Looks Out On... And There Is Nothing I Love So Much As Something Which Stretches Away From Me Out Of Sight.

In The World We Live In Everything Militates In Favor Of Things That Have Not Yet Happened, Of Things That Will Never Happen Again.

Nothing Retains Less Of Desire In Art, In Science, Than This Will To Industry, Booty, Possession.

Trust In The Inexhaustible Character Of The Murmur.

The Invention Of Photography Has Dealt A Mortal Blow To The Old Modes Of Expression, In Painting As Well As In Poetry, Where Automatic Writing, Which Appeared At The End Of The Nineteenth Century, Is A True Photography Of Thought. Since A Blind Instrument Now Assured Artists Of Achieving The Aim They Had Set Themselves Up To That Time, They Now Aspired, Not Without Recklessness, To Break With The Imitation Of Appearances.