Kitsch is certainly not "bad art," it forms its own closed system.

The world has always gone through periods of madness so as to advance a bit on the road to reason.

No one's death comes to pass without making some impression, and those close to the deceased inherit part of the liberated soul and become richer in their humanness.

Those who live by the sea can hardly form a single thought of which the sea would not be part.

While love ceaselessly strives toward that which lies at the hiddenmost center, hatred only perceives the topmost surface . . .

A kitsch novel describes the world not as it really is, but as it is hoped and feared to be.

Kitsch is certainly not "bad art," it forms its own closed system.