The eyes of the dead are closed gently; we also have to open gently the eyes of the living. — Jean Cocteau Copy Share Image
One is either judge or accused. The judge sits, the accused stands. Live on your feet. — Jean Cocteau Copy Share Image
Beauty makes one lose one's head. Poetry is born of this decapitation — Jean Cocteau Copy Share Image
Since these mysteries exceed my grasp, I shall pretend to have organized them. — Jean Cocteau Copy Share Image
Nothing ever gets anywhere. The earth keeps turning round and gets nowhere. The moment is the only thing that counts. — Jean Cocteau Copy Share Image
Be a mere assistant to your unconscious. Do only half the work. The rest will do itself. — Jean Cocteau Copy Share Image
Picasso said that everything is a miracle, that it's a miracle that we don't dissolve in our baths. — Jean Cocteau Copy Share Image
Look out! Be on your guard, because alone of all the arts, music moves all around you. — Jean Cocteau Copy Share Image
It seems to me that invisibility is the required provision of elegance. Elegance ceases to exist when it is noticed. — Jean Cocteau Copy Share Image
What is history after all? History is facts which become lies in the end. — Jean Cocteau Copy Share Image
Love is mainly an affair of short spasms. If these spasms disappoint us, love dies. It is very seldom that it weathers the experience… — Jean Cocteau Copy Share Image
I believe in luck: how else can you explain the success of those you dislike? — Jean Cocteau Copy Share Image
Fight any instinct to be humorless, for humorlessness is the worst of all absurdities. — Jean Cocteau Copy Share Image
Lying is the only art form that the public sanctions and instinctively prefers to reality. — Jean Cocteau Copy Share Image
The dead drug leaves a ghost behind. At certain hours it haunts the house. — Jean Cocteau Copy Share Image
My method is simple: not to bother about poetry. It must come of its own accord. Merely whispering its name drives it away. — Jean Cocteau Copy Share Image
If a poet has a dream, it is not of becoming famous, but of being believed. — Jean Cocteau Copy Share Image