Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
Betrayal is beautiful.
I don't want to disappear.
The pimp has a grin, never a smile.
Violence is a calm that disturbs you.
I decided to be what crime made of me.
It's a true image, born of a false spectacle.
What we need is hatred. From it our ideas are born.
Ah those knock-out body fluids: blood, sperm, tears!
To achieve harmony in bad taste is the height of elegance.
Anyone who knows a strange fact shares in its singularity.
There is a close relationship between flowers and convicts.
They spent their time doing nothing... they let intimacy fuse them.
I could not take lightly the idea that people made love without me.
It's the hour when night breaks away from the day, my dove, let me go.
I give the name violence to a boldness lying idle and enamored of danger.
Though they may not always be handsome men doomed to evil posses the manly virtues.
The time for reasoning is past; now's the time to get steamed up and fight like mad.
Anyone who's never experienced the pleasure of betrayal doesn't know what pleasure is.
By stretching language we'll distort it sufficiently to wrap ourselves in it and hide.
Love makes use of the worst traps. The least noble. The rarest. It exploits coincidence.
Anyone who hasn't experienced the ecstasy of betrayal knows nothing about ecstasy at all.
Crimes of which a people is ashamed constitute its real history. The same is true of man.
Slowly but surly I want to strip her of every kind of happiness as to make a saint of her.
A man must dream a long time in order to act with grandeur, and dreaming is nursed in darkness.
There are mornings when all men experience with fatigue a flush of tenderness that makes them horny.
The most reasonable man always manages, when he pulls the trigger, to become a dispenser of justice.
Worse than not realizing the dreams of your youth, would be to have been young and never dreamed at all.
Poetry is the break (or rather the meeting at the breaking point) between the visible and the invisible.
I'm homosexual. How and why are idle questions. It's a little like wanting to know why my eyes are green.
Power may be at the end of a gun, but sometimes it's also at the end of the shadow or the image of a gun.
I'm homosexual... How and why are idle questions. It's a little like wanting to know why my eyes are green.
on him, under him, with his mouth pressed to hers, he sang to her uncouth songs that moved through her body.
Would Hamlet have felt the delicious fascination of suicide if he hadn't had an audience, and lines to speak?
...beauty is the projection of ugliness and by developing certain monstrosities we obtain the purest ornaments.
I recognize in thieves, traitors and murderers, in the ruthless and the cunning, a deep beauty - a sunken beauty.
The vaporish cocaine loosens the contours of their lives and sets their bodies adrift, and so they are untouchable.
The fame of heroes owes little to the extent of their conquests and all to the success of the tributes paid to them.
My heart's in my hand, and my hand is pierced, and my hand's in the bag, and the bag is shut, and my heart is caught.
One can hear all that's going on in the street. Which means that from the street one can hear what's going on in this house.
The main object of a revolution is the liberation of man... not the interpretation and application of some transcendental ideology.
Added to the moral solitude of the murderer comes the solitude of the artist, which can acknowledge no authority, save that of another artist.
First of all, don't mix your hairpins up with mine! You .... Oh! All right, mix your muck with mine. Mix it! Mix your rags with my tatters! Mix it all up.
Creation is not a light-hearted game. The creator commits to a terrible adventure, which is to take up-on himself all of the dangers that his creatures run.
If we behave like those on the other side, then we are the other side. Instead of changing the world, all we'll achieve is a reflection of the one we want to destroy.
There is a close relationship between flowers and convicts. The fragility and delicacy of the former are of the same nature as the brutal insensitivity of the latter.
Every premeditated murder is always governed by a preparatory ceremonial and is always followed by a propitiatory ceremonial. The meaning of both eludes the murderers mind.
Repudiating the virtues of your world, criminals hopelessly agree to organize a forbidden universe. They agree to live in it. The air there is nauseating: they can breathe it.
Men endowed with a wild imagination should have, in addition, the great poetic faculty of denying our universe and its values so that they may act upon it with sovereign ease.
Repudiating the virtues of your world, criminals hopelessly agree to organize a forbidden universe. They agree to live in it. The air there is nauseating. They can breathe it.
Prisons! Prisons! Prisons, dungeons, blessed places where evil is impossible since they are the crossroads of all the malediction in the world. One cannot commit evil in evil.