I must see new things and investigate them. I want to taste dark water and see crackling trees and wild winds.

I was in love with everything- I wanted to look with love at the angry people so that their eyes would be forced to respond; and I wanted to bring gifts to the envious and tell them that I am worthless.

Bodies have their own light which they consume to live: they burn, they are not lit from the outside.

I do not deny that I have made drawings and watercolors of an erotic nature. But they are always works of art. Are there no artists who have done erotic pictures?

I must live in my own excrement, breathe in my own poisonous sticky fumes. Yet I am a human being! I still am. Does no one think of that?

I must see new things and investigate them. I want to taste dark water and see crackling trees and wild winds.

I don't know whether there is anyone else at all who remembers my noble father with such sadness