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
I believe in luck: how else can you explain the success of those you dislike? – Jean Cocteau
Youve never seen death? Look in the mirror every day and you will see it like bees working in a glass hive. – Jean Cocteau
Every poem is a coat of arms. It must be deciphered. How much blood, how many tears in exchange for these axes, these muzzles, these unicorns, these torches, these towers, these martlets, these seedlings of stars and these fields of blue! – Jean Cocteau