Jean Genet
Jean Genet
Jean Genet19 December 1910 – 15 April 1986) was a French novelist, playwright, poet, essayist, and political activist. Early in his life he was a vagabond and petty criminal, but he later took to writing. His major works include the novels Querelle of Brest, The Thief's Journal, and Our Lady of the Flowers, and the plays The Balcony, The Blacks, The Maids and The Screens...
NationalityFrench
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth19 December 1910
CountryFrance
cheating adventure games
We know that their adventures are childish. They themselves are fools. They are ready to kill or be killed over a card-game in which an opponent - or they themselves - was cheating. Yet, thanks to such fellows, tragedies are possible.
stars flower order
Excluded by my birth and tastes from the social order, I was not aware of its diversity. Nothing in the world was irrelevant: the stars on a general's sleeve, the stock-market quotations, the olive harvest, the style of the judiciary, the wheat exchange, flower-beds. Nothing. This order, fearful and feared, whose details were all inter-related, had a meaning: my exile.
profound solitude secret
Solitude, as I understand it, does not signify an unhappy state, but rather secret royalty, profound incommunicability yet a more or less obscure knowledge of an invulnerable singularity.
facts strange share
Anyone who knows a strange fact shares in its singularity.
mean house streets
One can hear all that's going on in the street. Which means that from the street one can hear what's going on in this house.
ornaments monstrosity certain
...beauty is the projection of ugliness and by developing certain monstrosities we obtain the purest ornaments.
hate men laughing
When I beheld you, suddenly - for perhaps a second - I had the strength to reject everything that wasn't you and to laugh at the illusion. But my shoulders are very frail. I was unable to bear the weight of the world's condemnation. And I began to hate you when everything about you would have kindled my love and when love would have made men's contempt unbearable, and their contempt would have made my love unbearable. The fact is, I hate you.
height taste harmony
To achieve harmony in bad taste is the height of elegance.
real men people
Crimes of which a people is ashamed constitute its real history. The same is true of man.
pimp
The pimp has a grin, never a smile.
success congratulations hero
The fame of heroes owes little to the extent of their conquests and all to the success of the tributes paid to them.
want saint kind
Slowly but surly I want to strip her of every kind of happiness as to make a saint of her.
blessed evil world
Prison, dungeons, blessed places where evil is impossible because they are the crossroads of all the evil in the world. One cannot commit evil in hell.
eyes idle wanting
I'm homosexual... How and why are idle questions. It's a little like wanting to know why my eyes are green.