Art as a whole is a riddle. Another way of putting this is to say that art expresses something while at the same time hiding it.

Art is magic delivered from the lie of being truth.

It is barbaric to write poetry after Auschwitz.

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.

One must have tradition in oneself, to hate it properly.

The inadequacy of the purely purpose-oriented form is revealed for what it is-a monotonous, impoverished boring practicality.

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