Poets don't draw. They unravel their handwriting and then tie it up again, but differently. — Jean Cocteau Copy Share Image
The poet is at the disposal of the night. His role is humble, he must clean house and await its due visitation. — Jean Cocteau Copy Share Image
A true poet does not bother to be poetical. Nor does a nursery gardener scent his roses. — Jean Cocteau Copy Share Image
Every poem is a coat of arms. It must be deciphered. How much blood, how many tears in exchange for these axes,… — 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
