People at the top are closing ranks so tightly that all possibility of subjective deviation has gone, and difference can be sought only in the more distinguished cut of an evening dress.

Laughing in the cultural industry is mockery of happiness.

Lies are told only to convey to someone that one has no need either of him or his good opinion.

And how comfortless is the thought that the sickness of the normal does not necessarily imply as its opposite the health of the sick, but that the latter usually only present, in a different way, the same disastrous pattern.

True thoughts are those alone which do not understand themselves.

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

Life has become the ideology of its own absence.