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We are in a period of such individualism that one no longer speaks of disciples one speaks of thieves.
Jean Cocteau
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Jean Cocteau
Age: 74 †
Born: 1889
Born: July 5
Died: 1963
Died: October 11
Actor
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Film Director
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Postage Stamp Designer
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Clément Eugène Jean Pierre Cocteau
Zhan Kokto
Eugène Jean Maurice Cocteau
Eugene Jean Maurice Cocteau
Jean Cocteau
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More quotes by Jean Cocteau
I know that poetry is indispensable, but to what I could not say.
Jean Cocteau
The runner stopped dead, lost his balance, froze in one of those violent attitudes in which the photographers petrify living reality.
Jean Cocteau
You are always concentrated on the inner thing. The moment one becomes aware of the crowd, performs for the crowd, it is spectacle.
Jean Cocteau
The joy of the young is to disobey
Jean Cocteau
After the writer's death, reading his journal is like receiving a long letter.
Jean Cocteau
The poet Paul Éluard says that to understand my film version of Beauty and the Beast, you must love your dog more than your car.
Jean Cocteau
It is not inspiration it is expiration.
Jean Cocteau
Perhaps I know to what extent I can go too far.
Jean Cocteau
The composer opens the cage door for arithmetic, the draftsman gives geometry its freedom.
Jean Cocteau
Every day in the mirror I watch death at work.
Jean Cocteau
Art is not a pastime but a priesthood.
Jean Cocteau
Poetry is a religion without hope, but its martyrs guarantee the eternal truth of its dogma.
Jean Cocteau
The public is never pleased with what we do, wanting always a copy of what we have done.
Jean Cocteau
Cultivate everything the critics hated in your first work - that's what makes you unique.
Jean Cocteau
There's no such thing as love only proof of love.
Jean Cocteau
I love cats because I enjoy my home and little by little, they become its visible soul.
Jean Cocteau
It seems to me that invisibility is the required provision of elegance. Elegance ceases to exist when it is noticed.
Jean Cocteau
Without opium, plans, marriages and journeys appear to me just as foolish as if someone falling out of a window were to hope to make friends with the occupants of the room before which he passes.
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
A prig always finds a last refuge in responsibility.
Jean Cocteau
