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I love cats because I enjoy my home and little by little, they become its visible soul.
Jean Cocteau
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Jean Cocteau
Age: 74 †
Born: 1889
Born: July 5
Died: 1963
Died: October 11
Actor
Composer
Designer
Film Director
Illustrator
Librettist
Novelist
Painter
Photographer
Playwright
Poet
Postage Stamp Designer
Prosaist
Clément Eugène Jean Pierre Cocteau
Zhan Kokto
Eugène Jean Maurice Cocteau
Eugene Jean Maurice Cocteau
Jean Cocteau
Animal
Enjoy
Become
Pet
Home
Cats
Littles
Visible
Soul
Cat
Little
Dog
Love
Appreciate
More quotes by Jean Cocteau
At all costs the true world of childhood must prevail, must be restored that world whose momentous, heroic, mysterious quality is fed on airy nothings, whose substance is so ill-fitted to withstand the brutal touch of adult inquisition.
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Statues to great men are made of the stones thrown at them in their lifetime.
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True realism consists in revealing the surprising things which habit keeps covered and prevents us from seeing.
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You are always concentrated on the inner thing. The moment one becomes aware of the crowd, performs for the crowd, it is spectacle.
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The public is never pleased with what we do, wanting always a copy of what we have done.
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The public only takes up yesterday as a stick to beat today.
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Childhood knows what it wants - to leave childhood behind.
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Art produces ugly things which frequently become beautiful with time.
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See your disappointments as good fortune. One plan's deflation is another's inflation.
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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!
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The world owes its enchantment to these curious creatures and their fancies but its multiple complicity rejects them. Thistledown spirits, tragic, heartrending in their evanescence, they must go blowing headlong to perdition.
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The hot hall full of painted girls and American soldiers is a saloon in some Western film. This noise drenches us, wakens us to do something else. It shows us a lost path.
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Poetry is a religion without hope. The poet exhausts himself in its service, knowing that, in the long run, a masterpiece is nothing but the performance of a trained dog on very shaky ground.
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Fight any instinct to be humorless, for humorlessness is the worst of all absurdities.
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Listen carefully to first criticisms made of your work. Note just what it is about your work that critics don't like - then cultivate it. That's the only part of your work that's individual and worth keeping.
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Poetry is a religion without hope, but its martyrs guarantee the eternal truth of its dogma.
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Expect neither reward nor beatitude. Return noble waves for ignoble.
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History is a combination of reality and lies. The reality of History becomes a lie. The unreality of the fable becomes the truth.
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Look out! Be on your guard, because alone of all the arts, music moves all around you.
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Compromise yourself. Obscure your own trail.
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