We could have saved sixpence. We could have saved fivepence. But at what cost?

Be again, be again. (Pause.) All that old misery. (Pause.) Once wasn't enough for you.

Silence and darkness were all I craved. Well, I get a certain amount of both. They being one.

Mysterious affair, electricity.

Art has nothing to do with clarity, does not dabble in the clear and does not make clear

Dying for dark — and the darker the Worse. Strange.

Art has always been this--pure interrogation, rhetorical question less the rhetoric--whatever else it may have been obliged by social reality to appear.