I believe in luck: how else can you explain the success of those you dislike? – Jean Cocteau
I feel that there is an angel inside me whom I am constantly shocking. – Jean Cocteau

I believe in luck: how else can you explain the success of those you dislike? – Jean Cocteau
I feel that there is an angel inside me whom I am constantly shocking. – Jean Cocteau
After the writers death, reading his journal is like receiving a long letter. – Jean Cocteau
Everything one does in life, even love, occurs in an express train racing toward death. To smoke opium is to get out of the train while it is still moving. It is to concern oneself with something other than life or death. – Jean Cocteau
Around and around the house the leaves fall thick—but never fast, for they come circling down with a dead lightness that is sombre and slow. Let the gardener sweep and sweep the turf as he will, and press the leaves into full barrows, and wheel them off, still they lie ankle-deep. – Charles Dickens, Bleak House