One dark night the skeletons that they had carefully hidden in an obscure closet appeared, grabbed them around the throat, and strangled them.
Nothing that surrounds us is object, all is subject.
Love is when you meet someone who tells you something new about yourself.
I believe in the pure Surrealist joy of the man who, forewarned that all others before him have failed, refused to admit defeat, sets off from watever point he chooses, along any other pat save a reasonable one, and arrives wherever he can.
Surrealism is based on the belief in the omnipotence of dreams, in the undirected play of thought.
It is living and ceasing to live that are imaginary solutions. Existence is elsewhere.
The man who cannot visualize a horse galloping on a tomato is an idiot.
Also, of course, for most of this time most Americans thought of America as a white country with, at best, only a very segregated and subordinate role for blacks.
I like to think of home as a verb, something we keep recreating.
A trembling in the bones may carry a more convincing testimony than the dry documented deductions of the brain.
But Apple really beats to a different drummer. I used to say that Apple should be the Sony of this business, but in reality, I think Apple should be the Apple of this business.