There is no true life within a false life.
In the innermost recesses of humanism, as its very soul, there rages a frantic prisoner who, as a Fascist, turns the world into a prison.
Writing poetry after Auschwitz is barbaric.
The power of the culture industry's ideology is such that conformity has replaced consciousness
The recent past always presents itself as if destroyed by catastrophes.
In the end indignation over kitsch is anger at tis shameless revelling in the joy of imitation.