|
« I still never found what I love about what I write. »
|
Paul Eluard
(Source unknown) |
|
Paul Eluard
(Source unknown)
|
|
|
« When we laugh, we we empty and the wind passes in us, stirring doors and windows, introducing us the night of the wind. »
|
Paul Eluard
Littérature - 13 Mai 1920 |
|
Paul Eluard
Littérature - 13 Mai 1920
|
|
|
« Happiness is a single bouquet: confused light fondant sweet. »
|
Paul Eluard
(Source unknown) |
|
Paul Eluard
(Source unknown)
|
|