Leonora Carrington

The skeleton was as happy as a madman whose straitjacket had been taken off.

In the political confusion and the torrid heat, I convinced myself that Madrid was the world's stomach and that I had been chosen for the task of restoring this digestive organ to health.

We went down into the silent garden. Dawn is the time when nothing breathes the hour of silence. Everything is transfixed only the light moves.

Sentimentality is a form of fatigue.

Reason must know the heart's reasons and every other reason