In the post-Warhol era a single gesture such as uncrossing one's legs will have more significance than all the pages in War and Peace.

Maybe you are a poet and a dreamer, but don't you realize that those two species are extinct now?

Art exists because reality is neither real nor significant.

The endless newsreel clips of nuclear explosions that we saw on TV in the 1960s (were) a powerful incitement to the psychotic imagination, sanctioning *everything*.

Everywhere - all over Africa and South America - you see these suburbs springing up. They represent the optimum of what people want. There's a certain sort of logic leading towards these immaculate suburbs. And they're terrifying, because they are the death of the soul. This is the prison this planet is being turned into.

Yes, sometimes I think that all my writing is nothing more than the compensatory work of a frustrated painter.

Science and technology multiply around us. To an increasing extent they dictate the languages in which we speak and think. Either we use those languages, or we remain mute.