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Every day in the mirror I watch death at work.

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
Every
Mirror
Mirrors
Watches
Watch
Death
Work

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Cultivate everything the critics hated in your first work - that's what makes you unique.
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The smell of opium is the least stupid smell in the world.
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Beauty cannot be recognized with a cursory glance.
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Watch yourself all your life in a mirror and you'll see Death at work like bees in a glass hive.
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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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In Paris, everybody wants to be an actor nobody is content to be a spectator.
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An artist cannot speak about his art any more than a plant can discuss horticulture.
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Enough of clouds, waves, aquariums, water-sprites and nocturnal scents what we need is music of the earth, everyday music..music one can live in like a house.
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He has the manner of a giant with the look of a child, a lazy activeness, a mad wisdom, a solitude encompassing the world.
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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.
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The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth.
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It seems to me that invisibility is the required provision of elegance. Elegance ceases to exist when it is noticed.
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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 Louvre is a morgue you go there to identify your friends.
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My little Renoirs. Matisse describes having seen Renoir make these tiny canvases. When he had finished working, he would use up the color left in his brushes on them.
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Childhood knows what it wants - to leave childhood behind.
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The joy of the young is to disobey
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I feel myself inhabited by a force or being -- very little known to me. It gives the orders I follow.
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Art is science made flesh.
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one should always talk well about oneself! The word spreads around and in the end, noone remembers where it started
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