The Artist Must Know How Far To

Commissions Suit Me. They Set Limits. Jean Marais Dared Me To Write Play In Which He Would Not Speak In The First Act, Would Weep For Joy In The Second And In The Last Would Fall Backward Down A Flight Of Stairs.

I Have Never Felt Any Connection With My Family. There Is?i Must Say Simply?something In Me That Is Not In My Family. That Was Not Visible In My Father Or Mother. I Do Not Know Its Origin.

He Who Is Affected By An Insult Is Infected By It.

Artists Can No More Speak About Their Work, Than Plants Can Speak About Horticulture.

What Is Line? It Is Life. A Line Must Live At Each Point Along Its Course In Such A Way That The Artist's Presence Makes Itself Felt Above That Of The Model... With The Writer, Line Takes Precedence Over Form And Content. It Runs Through The Words He Assembles. It Strikes A Continuous Note Unperceived By Ear Or Eye. It Is, In A Way, The Soul's Style, And If The Line Ceases To Have A Life Of Its Own, If It Only Describes An Arabesque, The Soul Is Missing And The Writing Dies.