The almost insoluble task is to let neither the power of others, nor our own powerlessness, stupefy us.

Art is magic delivered from the lie of being truth.

The task of art today is to bring chaos into order.

He who stands aloof runs the risk of believing himself better than others and misusing his critique of society as an ideology for his private interest. While he gropingly forms his own life in the frail image of a true existence, he should never forget its frailty, nor how little the image is a substitute for true life. Against such awareness, however, pulls the momentum of the bourgeois within him.

Even the loveliest dream bears like a blemish its difference from reality, the awareness that what it grants is mere illusion.

Only a humanity to whom death has become as indifferent as its members, that has itself died, can inflict it administratively on innumerable people.

An emancipated society, on the other hand, would not be a unitary state, but the realization of universality in the reconciliation of differences.