I stand for what I stand on.

The hawk's cry is as sharp as its beak.

Capitalism: Nothing so mean could be right. Greed is the ugliest of the capital sins.

The desert wears... a veil of mystery. Motionless and silent it evokes in us an elusive hint of something unknown, unknowable, about to be revealed. Since the desert does not act it seems to be waiting -- but waiting for what?

Anton Bruckner wrote the same symphony nine times, trying to get it just right. He failed.

How could anything non-controversial be of intellectual interest to grown-ups?

We know this apodictic rock beneath our feet. That dogmatic sun above our heads. The world of dreams, the agony of love and the foresight of death. That is all we know. And all we need to know? Challenge that statement.