Luis Buñuel

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Somewhere between chance
and mystery lies the grave
seduction of smoke

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Truth doesn’t matter . . .
A daily cocktail of truth
cannot change the world

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What is lovelier
than life without memory?
Amnesia is God!

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A paranoiac
imagination is the
freedom of poets

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Why can’t the Devil
in all His luminousness
make me his consort?

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When you’re naked, age
matters; when you’re in the grave,
age doesn’t matter

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Fortunately, an
exquisite sense of horror
protects me from life

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Oppression of love:
essential spurt of reason,
then bitter regret

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For a writer, the
margin of conformity
tastes of word torture

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