“Ce que je redoute le plus, je crois, c'est la mort de l'imagination. Quand le ciel, dehors, se contente d'être rose, et les toits des maisons noirs : cet esprit photographique qui, paradoxalement, dit la vérité, mais la vérité vaine, sur le monde”Carnets intimes
En anglais : "What I fear most, I think, is the death of the imagination. When the sky outside is merely pink, and the rooftops merely black: the photographic mind which paradoxically tells the truth, but the worthless truth, about the world…If I sit still and don't do anything, the world goes on beating like a slack drum, without meaning. We must be moving, working, making dreams to run toward; the poverty of life without dreams is too horrible to imagine: it is that kind of madness which is worst: the kind with fancies and hallucinations would be a bosch-ish relief."