Jean Cocteau Zitate

Jean Cocteau war ein französischer Schriftsteller, Regisseur und Maler.

✵ 5. Juli 1889 – 11. Oktober 1963
Jean Cocteau Foto
Jean Cocteau: 144   Zitate 36   Gefällt mir

Jean Cocteau Berühmte Zitate

Diese Übersetzung wartet auf eine Überprüfung. Ist es korrekt?
Diese Übersetzung wartet auf eine Überprüfung. Ist es korrekt?
Diese Übersetzung wartet auf eine Überprüfung. Ist es korrekt?

„Verachte den Menschen, der Beifall sucht, und verachte den Menschen, der ausgepfiffen werden will.“

Hahn und Harlekin (1918); in: Jean Cocteau; Band 2: Prosa; Volk und Welt, Berlin 1971. S.285

Jean Cocteau Zitate und Sprüche

„Die Spiegel täten gut daran, sich ein wenig zu besinnen, ehe sie die Bilder zurückwerfen.“

Versuche (1928/32); in: Jean Cocteau; Band 2: Prosa; Volk und Welt, Berlin 1971. S.288

„Die Schnelligkeit eines durchgegangenen Pferdes zählt nicht.“

Hahn und Harlekin (1918); in: Jean Cocteau; Band 2: Prosa; Volk und Welt, Berlin 1971. S.285

„Ein Künstler, der zurückweicht, verrät keine Sache. Er verrät sich selbst.“

Hahn und Harlekin (1918); in: Jean Cocteau; Band 2: Prosa; Volk und Welt, Berlin 1971. S.285

„Sanft schließt man Toten die Augen; sanft muß man auch den Lebenden die Augen öffnen.“

Hahn und Harlekin (1918); in: Jean Cocteau; Band 2: Prosa; Volk und Welt, Berlin 1971. S.287

„Befasse dich, auch wo du tadelst, nur mit Erstrangigem.“

Hahn und Harlekin (1918) ; in: Jean Cocteau; Band 2: Prosa; Volk und Welt, Berlin 1971. S.286

„Der Takt der Frechheit besteht darin, zu wissen, bis zu welchem Punkt man zu weit gehen kann.“

Hahn und Harlekin (1918); in: Jean Cocteau; Band 2: Prosa; Volk und Welt, Berlin 1971. S.284

„Eine gerade Linie büßt ihre Geradheit nicht ein, weil sie die Richtung ändert.“

Versuche (1928/32); in: Jean Cocteau; Band 2: Prosa; Volk und Welt, Berlin 1971. S.288

„Wenn du dir den Kopf kahl scherst, so laß keine Locke für den Sonntag übrig.“

Hahn und Harlekin (1918); in: Jean Cocteau; Band 2: Prosa; Volk und Welt, Berlin 1971. S.286

Jean Cocteau: Zitate auf Englisch

“The joy of youth is to disobey, but the trouble is that there are no longer any orders.”

As quoted in Geary's Guide to the World's Great Aphorists (2007) by James Geary, p. 271

“Lack of manners is the sign of a hero.”

Quelle: Opium: The Diary of His Cure

“Living is a horizontal fall.”

Opium (1929)
Variante: Life is a horizontal fall.
Quelle: Opium: The Diary of His Cure

“Poetry is an ethic. By ethic I mean a secret code of behavior, a discipline constructed and conducted according to the capabilities of a man who rejects the falsifications of the categorical imperative.”

Diary of an Unknown (1988), On Invisibility
Kontext: Poetry is an ethic. By ethic I mean a secret code of behavior, a discipline constructed and conducted according to the capabilities of a man who rejects the falsifications of the categorical imperative.
This personal morality may appear to be immorality itself in the eyes of those who lie to themselves, or who live a life of confusion, in such a manner that, for them, a lie becomes the truth, and our truth becomes a lie...

“Poetry, being elegance itself, cannot hope to achieve visibility.”

Diary of an Unknown (1988), On Invisibility
Kontext: Poetry, being elegance itself, cannot hope to achieve visibility. In that case, you ask me, of what use is it? Of no use. Who will see it? No one. Which does not prevent it from being an outrage to modesty, though its exhibitionism is squandered on the blind. It is enough for poetry to express a personal ethic, which can then break away in the form of a work. It insists on living its own life. It becomes the pretext for a thousand misunderstandings that go by the name of glory...

“Beauty is always the result of an accident. Of a violent lapse between acquired habits and those yet to be acquired.”

Diary of an Unknown (1988), On Invisibility
Kontext: Beauty is always the result of an accident. Of a violent lapse between acquired habits and those yet to be acquired. It baffles and disgusts. It may even horrify. Once the new habit has been acquired, the accident ceases to be an accident. It becomes classical and loses its shock value.

“It insists on living its own life. It becomes the pretext for a thousand misunderstandings that go by the name of glory…”

Diary of an Unknown (1988), On Invisibility
Kontext: Poetry, being elegance itself, cannot hope to achieve visibility. In that case, you ask me, of what use is it? Of no use. Who will see it? No one. Which does not prevent it from being an outrage to modesty, though its exhibitionism is squandered on the blind. It is enough for poetry to express a personal ethic, which can then break away in the form of a work. It insists on living its own life. It becomes the pretext for a thousand misunderstandings that go by the name of glory...

“What is line? It is life. A line must live at each point along its course in such a way that the artist’s presence makes itself felt above that of the model”

"De la Ligne" in La Difficulté d’Etre [The Difficulty of Being] (1947)
Kontext: What is line? It is life. A line must live at each point along its course in such a way that the artist’s presence makes itself felt above that of the model... With the writer, line takes precedence over form and content. It runs through the words he assembles. It strikes a continuous note unperceived by ear or eye. It is, in a way, the soul’s style, and if the line ceases to have a life of its own, if it only describes an arabesque, the soul is missing and the writing dies.

“History is facts which become lies in the end; legends are lies which become history in the end.”

As quoted in The Observer (22 September 1957)
Kontext: What is history after all? History is facts which become lies in the end; legends are lies which become history in the end.

“Art is science made clear.”

Le Coq et l’Arlequin (1918)

“We must believe in luck. For how else can we explain the success of those we don’t like?”

On his election to Académie Française (1955) Variant translation: Of course I believe in luck. How else does one explain the successes of one's enemies?

“The day of my birth, my death began its walk. It is walking toward me, without hurrying.”

Depuis le jour de ma naissance, ma mort s'est mise en marche. Elle marche à ma rencontre, sans se presser.
"Postambule" in La Fin du Potomac (1939); later published in Collected Works Vol. 2 (1947)

“I am a lie who always speaks the truth.”

"La Paquet Rouge" in Opéra (1925)

“An artist cannot speak about his art any more than a plant can discuss horticulture.”

As quoted in Newsweek (16 May 1955) Variant translation: Asking an artist to talk about his work is like asking a plant to discuss horticulture.

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