I want to live in Theory. Everything works there

Lautréamont was of the opinion that nothing on earth is comprehensible. Absurdity and disgust are simply pimientos, condiments that provoke men and urge them on to a wider choice. The result is a wider knowledge of things, or at least the illusion that this knowledge is deepening. If you take a close look, however, absurdity doesn’t exist.

Ever since the days when I was a babe in arms, the moment anyone spoke to me about death as an inevitable event, I have always shouted, “Lies!” I’ve always felt that in the last minute everything would work out. And I haven’t changed my mind. If I believed in death, in the traditional sense of the word, that is to say, in decay and nothingness, I would start trembling like a leaf, and anxiety would keep me from swallowing anything. But that’s not my belief at all.

ALAIN BOSQUET: Dalí conversations