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“very early in Moderan the mighty Stronghold masters had solved for themselves the flesh-woman question, or, to be more precise, the wife-nuisance roadblock. And for that I honor them. I mean, my beamish hat is off to them, for that was QUITE a solving! We have no such problem, of course, in the essence times. If I don't like the beams of the woman I'm with, or if I like too much the beams of the woman I'm with and she won't reciprocate, I just signal back to the Love Dictator's office my discontent and he orders one of his little clerk mechanics to call the old beams home, and the Love Dictator then transmits me, personally, a new package.”
― David R. Bunch, Moderan

“But in those first hours after you take it, your brain is tuned in like nothing you can imagine. Eyes like the Hubble telescope, sensing light that's not even on the spectrum. You might be able to read minds, make time stop, cook pasta that's exactly right every time.”
― David Wong

“(Gesture of incomprehension.)”
― Pierre Unik, Investigating Sex: Surrealist Discussions, 1928-1932

“A dandy," wrote Charles Baudelaire, "must be looking in his mirror at all times, waking and sleeping." Dali could easily have become the living proof of Baudelaire's dictum. But the literal mirror was not enough for him. Dali needed mirrors of many kinds: his pictures, his admirers, newspapers and magazines and television. And even that still left him unsatisfied.

So one Christmas he took a walk in the streets of New York carrying a bell. He would ring it whenever he felt people were not paying enough attention to him. "The thought of not being recognised was unbearable." True to himself to the bitter end, he delighted in following Catalonian television's bulletins on his state of health during his last days alive (in Quiron hospital in Barcelona); he wanted to hear people talking about him, and he also wanted to know whether his health would revive or whether he would be dying soon. At the age of six he wanted to be a female cook - he specified the gender. At seven he wanted to be Napoleon. "Ever since, my ambition has been continually on the increase, as has my megalomania: now all I want to be is Salvador Dali. But the closer I get to my goal, the further Salvador Dali drifts away from me."

He painted his first picture in 1910 at the age of six. At ten he discovered Impressionist art, and at fourteen the Pompiers (a 19th century group of academic genre painters, among them Meissonier, Detaille and Moreau). By 1927 he was Dali, and the poet and playwright Federico Garcia Lorca, a friend of his youth, wrote an 'Ode to Salvador Dali.' Years later Dali claimed that Lorca had been very attracted to him and had tride to sodomize him, but had not quite managed it. Dali's thirst for scandal was unquenchable. His parents had named him Salvador "because he was the chosen one who was come to save painting from the" deadly menace of abstract art, academic Surrealism, Dadaism, and any kind of anarchic "ism" whatsoever."

If he had lived during the Renaissance, his genius would have been recognized at an earlier stage and indeed considered normal. But in the twentieth century, which Dali damned as stupid, he was thought provocative, a thorn in the flesh. To this day there are many who misunderstand the provocativeness and label him insane. But Dali repeatedly declared: "... the sole difference between me and a madman is the fact that I am not mad!" Dali also said: "The difference between the Surrealists and me is that I am a Surrealist" - which is perfectly true. And he also claimed: "I have the universal curiosity of Renaissance men, and my mental jaws are constantly at work.”
― Gilles Néret, Salvador Dalí: 1904-1989

“I'm not a fellow seeker of truth,
I'm a seeker of esoterica in my own surrealistic way.”
― Erfan Rezaei

“we hung there in the cold night for a while, awkwardly, the three of us, like the moons of a planet that had recently imploded”
― Zachary Schomburg, The Man Suit

“The only thing we know for sure is that we don't know anything for sure.”
― ~MLMorning

“The whole affair was seemingly a replay of some sentimental act he had dreamed up in his battle-weary mind, half-asleep and half-wired in waiting out the night in the rubble of a compromised safe house halfway across the world. Part of him wondered if this was nothing more than the vivid delusion stretching out the faint but escalating whistle between the click of the enemy gun and the bullet exiting the back of his skull.”
― Casey Fisher, The Subtle Cause

“Will they remember this existence?â€�

“Maybe in the way fragments of forgotten dreams sometimes lightly superimpose themselves in the mind many years later, only to dissolve in a blink.”
― Casey Fisher, The Subtle Cause

“I had nightmares about my eye being pulled out of my head, dreams reminiscent of Un Chien Andalou, the Surrealist film by Luis Buñuel and Salvador Dalí, in which a cloud slicing across the full moon becomes a razor blade slicing through an eyeâ€�

.”
― Salman Rushdie, Knife: Meditations After an Attempted Murder

“Alive or dead," he told himself, "I am just so much manure. One hundred and sixty-five pounds of it, belong by right to the nearest field of corn. Take me out among the hills and lay me down there, a willing hostage from mankind, a tribute to the silent way, the august overlordship of the Vegetable Kingdom.”
― Robert M. Coates, The Eater of Darkness