As [John Heartfield] was playing with the fire of appearance, reality took fire around him... The scraps of photographs that he formerly manoeuvred for the pleasure of stupification, under his fingers began to signify.
As if one could do what one wanted with one's own body!
There are strange flowers of reason to match each error of the senses.
The painting of tomorrow will use the photographic eye as it has used the human eye.
We know that the nature of genius is to provide idiots with ideas twenty years later.
Light is meaningful only in relation to darkness, and truth presupposes error. It is these mingled opposites which people our life, which make it pungent, intoxicating. We only exist in terms of this conflict, in the zone where black and white clash.