To have her here in bed with me, breathing on me, her hair in my mouth—I count that something of a miracle.

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.

As long as that spark of passion is missing there is no human significance in the performance.

We must not just be in the world and above the world, but also of the world. To love it for what it is... is the only task. Avoid it and you are lost. Lose yourself in it, and you are free.

One of the reasons why so few of us ever act, instead of react, is because we are continually stifling our deepest impulses.

The best technique is none at all.

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.