The Old Paris Is No

Pure Draughtsmen Are Philosophers And Dialecticians. Colourists Are Epic Poets.

Strangeness Is The Indispensable Condiment Of All Beauty.

Even In The Centuries Which Appear To Us To Be The Most Monstrous And Foolish, The Immortal Appetite For Beauty Has Always Found Satisfaction.

To Glorify The Cult Of Images (my Great, My Only, My Earliest Passion).

Quand Notre Coeur A Fait Une Fois Sa Vendange, Vivre Est Un Mal. Once Our Heart Has Been Harvested Once, Life Becomes Miserable.