I only believe in fire. Life. Fire. Being myself on fire I set others on fire. Never death. Fire and life.
It is the function of art to renew our perception. What we are familiar with we cease to see. The writer shakes up the familiar scene, and, as if by magic, we see a new meaning in it.
Our age has need of violence," he writes. And he is violence.
I'm sick of my own romanticism!
I was stirred only like a leaf in the wind, that is all. . .
They courted the face on the screen, the face of translucence, the face of wax on which men found it possible to imprint the image of their fantasy.