Art—the meaning of the pattern of our common actions in reality. The cloth-of-gold that hides behind the sackcloth of reality, forced out by the pain of human memory.
To be the equal of reality you must learn how to ignore it without danger.
The effective in art is what rapes the emotions of your audience without nourishing its values.
Truth is what most contradicts itself.
It is not love that is blind, but jealousy.
Perhaps our only sickness is to desire a truth which we cannot bear rather than to rest content with the fictions we manufacture out of each other.