What culture lacks is the taste for anonymous, innumerable germination. Culture is smitten with counting and measuring; it feels out of place and uncomfortable with the innumerable; its efforts tend, on the contrary, to limit the numbers in all domains; it tries to count on its fingers.

Unless one says goodbye to what one loves, and unless one travels to completely new territories, one can expect merely a long wearing away of oneself and an eventual extinction.

Personally, I believe very much in values of savagery; I mean: instinct, passion, mood, violence, madness.

There is no art without intoxication. But I mean a mad intoxication! Let reason teeter! Delirium!

For me, insanity is super sanity. The normal is psychotic. Normal means lack of imagination, lack of creativity.

Dancing is the last word in life. In dancing one draws nearer to oneself.

What I expect from any work of art is that it surprises me, that it violates my customary valuations of things and offers me other, unexpected ones.