In art, rebellion is consummated and perpetuated in the act of real creation, not in criticism or commentary.

Although it was the middle of winter, I finally realized that, within me, summer was inextinguishable.

The main thing is that everything become simple, easy enough for a child to understand.

You make the mistake of thinking you have to choose, that you have to do what you want, that there are conditions for happiness. What matters — all that matters, really is the will to happiness, a kind of enormous, ever present consciousness. The rest - women , art, success — is nothing but excuses. A canvas waiting for our embroideries.

Powerful, yes, that is the word that I constantly rolled on my tongue, I dreamed of absolute power, the kind that forces others tokneel, that forces the enemy to capitulate, finally converting him, and the more the enemy is blind, cruel, sure of himself, buried in his conviction, the more his admission proclaims the royalty of he who has brought on his defeat.

Believe me, the hardest thing for a man to give up is that which he really doesn't want, after all.

There is a life and there is a death, and there are beauty and melancholy between.