I love my cats because I love my home, and little by little they become its visible soul. – Jean Cocteau
After the writers death, reading his journal is like receiving a long letter. – Jean Cocteau

I love my cats because I love my home, and little by little they become its visible soul. – Jean Cocteau
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
The Louver is a morgue; you go there to identify your friends. – Jean Cocteau