Sex, Surrealism, Dali and Me: A biography of Salvador Dali

He had the most incredible memory. He could quote reams of poetry, opera, street songs, minute details on the most complex of subjects. He played the fool and when people treated him as one he stunned them to silence with his brilliance.

'Photographs allow you to live twice,' you once said with rare passion.

The Virgin Mary was fourteen when Joseph the Carpenter was already forty. He was a Sugar Daddy.'

'Surrealism is not a movement. It is a latent state of mind perceivable through the powers of dream and nightmare. It is a human predisposition. People ask me: What is the difference between the irrational and the surreal and I tell them: the Divine Dalí.'

Qué hablen. 'Let them talk. I want everyone to talk of Dalí. Even if they speak well of him.'

we had long admired photographs of Nanita Kalaschnikoff among the world's most wicked and wonderful; we would read about her husband's origins in the Russian nobility, his connection with that awful gun so beloved by terrorists. She was a Princess, a Spanish beauty with an uncanny resemblance to the Bourban monarchs and, in the Court of Salvador Da

We journeyed on through the music and smoke, the chatter of conversation, Dalí leading the way with a cane he held like a bishop's sceptre. It had once belonged to Sarah Bernhardt and when it was stolen he missed it like the limb the great tragedienne had amputated. 'After they cut off her leg she kept performing her act. Genius is subtle. We find

One day, in the summer of 1970, I was standing naked in the studio, the light behind me, the sun glinting on the waves in Port Lligat. Dalí was pleased with the study on the easel and exasperated with the roughs that littered the floor. He called Arturo. 'Get rid of this rubbish. Burn it,' he instructed and, as we left the room, the faithful servan

You said once: 'I have a dream, a vision, and every day it changes. That is the nature of genius.'