Very evil people cannot really be imagined dying.

Once the last trace of emotion has been eradicated, nothing remains of thought but absolute tautology.

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.

A pencil and rubber are of more use to thought than a battalion of assistants. To happiness the same applies as to truth: one does not have it, but is in it.

Tact is the discrimination of differences. It consists in conscious deviations.

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

The law of the innermost form of the essay is heresy