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

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.

That all men are alike is exactly what society would like to hear. It considers actual or imagined differences as stigmas indicating that not enough has yet been done; that something has still been left outside its machinery, not quite determined by its totality.

Art is the social antithesis of society, not directly deducible from it.

Life has become the ideology of its own absence.

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.

Everything that has ever been called folk art has always reflected domination.