After the writers death, reading his journal is like receiving a long letter. – Jean Cocteau
Man seeks to escape himself in myth, and does so by any means at his disposal. Drugs, alcohol, or lies. Unable to withdraw into himself, he disguises himself. Lies and inaccuracy give him a few moments of comfort. – Jean Cocteau
I love cats because I love my home and after a while they become its visible soul. – Jean Cocteau
A true poet does not bother to be poetical. Nor does a nursery gardener scent his roses. – Jean Cocteau
Im very comfortable with the nature of life and death, and that we come to an end. Whats most difficult to imagine is that those dreams and early yearnings and desires of childhood and adolescence will also disappear. But who knows? Maybe you become part of the eternal whatever. – Hugh Hefner