The recent past always presents itself as if destroyed by catastrophes.

The man for whom time stretches out painfully is one waiting in vain, disappointed at not finding tomorrow already continuing yesterday.

The culture industry not so much adapts to the reactions of its customers as it counterfeits them.

The individual mirrors in his individuation the preordained social laws of exploitation, however mediated.

Fascism is itself less 'ideological', in so far as it openly proclaims the principle of domination that is elsewhere concealed.

In the end, glorification of splendid underdogs is nothing other than glorification of the splendid system that makes them so.

Exuberant health is always, as such, sickness also.