The sublime is only a step removed from the ridiculous.

In the end indignation over kitsch is anger at tis shameless revelling in the joy of imitation.

He who matures early lives in anticipation.

Today self-consciousness no longer means anything but reflection on the ego as embarrassment, as realization of impotence: knowing that one is nothing.

It is barbaric to write poetry after Auschwitz.

The thought that murders the wish that fathered it will be overtaken by the revenge of stupidity

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