The wallpaper with which the men of science have covered the world of reality is falling to tatters. The grand whorehouse which they have made of life requires no decoration; it is essential that only the drains function adequately. Beauty, that feline beauty that has us by the balls in America, is finished.

I demanded a realm in which I should be both master and slave at the same time: The world of art is the only such realm.

Every man, when he gets quiet, when he becomes desperately honest with himself, is capable of uttering profound truths. We all derive from the same source. There is no mystery about the origin of things. We are all part of creation, all kings, all poets, all musicians; we have only to open up, only to discover what is already there.

Music is the can-opener of the soul.

I have made a silent compact with myself not to change a line of what I write. I am not interested in perfecting my thoughts, nor my actions.

Imagination is the voice of daring. If there is anything Godlike about God it is that. He dared to imagine everything.

The only difference between the Adamic man and the man of today is that the one was born to Paradise and the other has to create it.