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Since the day of my birth, my death began its walk. It is walking toward me, without hurrying.
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
Without
Toward
Birth
Walking
Dying
Walk
Walks
Since
Hurrying
Death
Began
More quotes by Jean Cocteau
A film is a petrified fountain of thought.
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Art is science made flesh.
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The art of genius is knowing how far out is too far.
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And now I have to confess the unpardonable and the scandalous. I am a happy man. And I am going to tell you the secret of my happiness. It is quite simple. I love mankind. I love love. I hate hate. I try to understand and accept.
Jean Cocteau
Keep braiding one's wavelengths back into oneself. That way they gain all the more external power and surround us with a huge affective and protective zone. Don't talk about this. Never talk about our secret methods. If we talk about them, they stop working.
Jean Cocteau
It is not inspiration it is expiration.
Jean Cocteau
The Louvre is a morgue you go there to identify your friends.
Jean Cocteau
The ultimate politeness in art consists of speaking only to those who are able to uncover and measure its relationships. Anything else is symbolic, and symbolism is merely transcendental imagery.
Jean Cocteau
The only work of art which succeeds is that which fails.
Jean Cocteau
The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth.
Jean Cocteau
To be audacious with tact, you have to know to what point you can go too far.
Jean Cocteau
Art produces ugly things which frequently become beautiful with time.
Jean Cocteau
Art is not a pastime but a priesthood.
Jean Cocteau
Appreciation of art is a moral erection, otherwise mere dilettantism.
Jean Cocteau
I feel myself inhabited by a force or being -- very little known to me. It gives the orders I follow.
Jean Cocteau
The skin of all of us is responsive to gypsy songs and military marches.
Jean Cocteau
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.
Jean Cocteau
The poet doesn't invent. He listens.
Jean Cocteau
After the writer's death, reading his journal is like receiving a long letter.
Jean Cocteau
Alas! I do not believe that inspiration falls from heaven. think it rather the result of a profound indolence.
Jean Cocteau