I am imbued with the notion that a Muse is necessarily a dead woman, inaccessible or absent; that a poetic structure - like the canon, which is only a hole surrounded by steel - can be based only on what… — Michel Leiris Copy Share Image
“poetry’s favourite moment is when one loses one’s footing because of a landslide or seismic shaking of thought” — Michel Leiris Copy Share Image
“..the sense of a catastrophe perpetually invoked and avoided creates a rapture in whose depths horror and pleasure coincide...” — Michel Leiris Copy Share Image
If a dream affords the dreamer some light on himself, it is not the person with closed eyes who makes the discovery but the… — Michel Leiris Copy Share Image
“Always beneath or above concrete events, I remain a prisoner of this alternative: the world as a real object that dominates me and devours… — Michel Leiris Copy Share Image
I am imbued with the notion that a Muse is necessarily a dead woman, inaccessible or absent; that a poetic structure - like the… — Michel Leiris Copy Share Image
“Midway between the too soiled ground and the too-sublime vaults, at the level of the air, entering the skin of the role, poetry plays… — Michel Leiris Copy Share Image
“And the beautiful lady, still with her beautiful wasp’s waist, the very beautiful lady whose charms buzz around our childish dreams, will not turn… — Michel Leiris Copy Share Image
“When the human voice is reduced to being no longer a song, a word, or a cry, but the articulation of the unnamable itself,… — Michel Leiris Copy Share Image
“at man’s height the mouth utters its cries, tosses forth its oracles, gives vent to its puns. To allow words to come to life,… — Michel Leiris Copy Share Image
“poetry’s favourite moment is when one loses one’s footing because of a landslide or seismic shaking of thought” — Michel Leiris Copy Share Image
Nothing seems more like a whorehouse to me than a museum. In it you find the same equivocal aspect, the same frozen quality. — Michel Leiris Copy Share Image
“Pessimism is a towering skyscraper eighty stories high in the suburbs of the soul at the end of a long avenue with waste ground… — Michel Leiris Copy Share Image
