Art is accusation, expression, passion. Art is black charcoal crushing white paper.

Art is hard for a puritan to understand.

The patience of poverty. In rice fields, backs bent forever. Amazing, man outoxens the oxen and still smiles. The mystery of India, say Indologists.

Students who don't want to get anywhere are sure to get somewhere.

Melancholy has ceased to be an individual phenomenon, an exception. It has become the class privilege of the wage earner, a mass state of mind that finds its cause wherever life is governed by production quotas.

As a child I was a great liar. Fortunately my mother liked my lies. I promised her marvelous things.

The job of a citizen is to keep his mouth open.