Don't you know that every perfect life would be the end of art?

The truth is not a crystal that can be slipped into one's pocket, but an endless current into which one falls headlong.

Anything that endures over time sacrifices its ability to make an impression.

Hardly anyone still reads nowadays. People make use of the writer only in order to work off their own excess energy on him in a perverse manner, in the form of agreement or disagreement.

Philosophers are people who do violence, but have no army at their disposal, and so subjugate the world by locking it into a system.

He who is allowed to do as he likes will soon run his head into a brick wall out of sheer frustration.

Layer by layer art strips life bare.