The need to let suffering speak is a condition of all truth. For suffering is objectivity that weighs upon the subject

Kitsch parodies catharsis...It is in vain to try to draw the boundaries abstractly between aesthetic fiction and kitsch's emotional plunder. It is a poison admixed to all art; excising it is today one of art's despairing efforts.

But he who dies in despair has lived his whole life in vain.

Life has changed into a timeless succession of shocks, interspaced with empty, paralysed intervals.

It is barbaric to write poetry after Auschwitz.

If time is money, it seems moral to save time, above all one's own, and such parsimony is excused by consideration for others. One is straight-forward.

There's not much need for prophets who are in synch with their society.