You are vain and wicked- as a genius should be.

Often I had to imagine the things I needed. I learned very early to read amidst noise. And so I started writing and drawing at an early age.

On sorrow floats laughter.

Information networks straddle the world. Nothing remains concealed. But the sheer volume of information dissolves the information. We are unable to take it all in.

I shall speak of how melancholy and utopia preclude one another. How they fertilize one another... of the revulsion that follows one insight and precedes the next... of superabundance and surfeit. Of stasis in progress. And of myself, for whom melancholy and utopia are heads and tails of the same coin.

I belonged to the generation that grew up under National Socialism, and was blinded and led astray - and allowed itself to be led astray.

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