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Quote by Jean Cocteau

“In two weeks, despite these notes, I shall no longer believe in what I am experiencing now. One must leave behind a trace of this journey which memory forgets. One must, when this is impossible, write or draw without responding to the romantic solicitations of pain, without enjoying suffering like music, tieing a pen to one's foot if need be, helping the doctors who can learn nothing from laziness.”

Quote by Jean Cocteau

Work

Opium: The Illustrated Diary of His Cure

This book offers a unique perspective on the struggle with opium addiction, combining personal narratives with vivid illustrations to depict the journey towards recovery. The author's diary entries provide intimate insights into the psychological and physical challenges faced during the process, offering a raw and honest account of the transformative experience. more

Author

Jean Cocteau
Jean Cocteau

Jean Cocteau was a French poet, playwright, novelist, and painter, renowned for his unique literary style and artistic achievements. Born on July 5, 1889, and passing away on October 11, 1963, Cocteau's work spanned poetry, drama, fiction, and painting. His creations often blended dreams and reality, profoundly influencing French literature and art in the 20th century. more

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“What came before has dissolved from me, lost like milk teeth. But I think, rather, that it has always been as it is, and there was never a beforethis nor will there be an afternow. I am accepting. This is not a thing to be solved, or conquered, or destroyed. It is. I am. We are. We conjugate together in darkness, plotting against each other, the Labyrinth to eat me and I to eat it, each to swallow the hard, black opium of the other. We hold orange petals beneath our tongues and seethe. It has always been so. It grinds against me and I bite into its skin.”

“We treat desire as a problem to be solved, address what desire is for and focus on that something and how to acquire it rather than on the nature and the sensation of desire, though often it is the desire between us and the object of desire that fills the space in between with the blue of longing.”