My God died young. Theolatry i found Degrading, and its premises, unsound. No free man needs God; but was I free?

To begin with, let us take the following motto...Literature is Love. Now we can continue.

I confess, I do not believe in time.

Some people, and I am one of them, hate happy ends. We feel cheated. Harm is the norm.

For I do not exist: there exist but the thousands of mirrors that reflect me. With every acquaintance I make, the population of phantoms resembling me increases. Somewhere they live, somewhere they multiply. I alone do not exist.

I do not see any essential difference between abstract and primitive art. Both are simple and sincere. Naturally, we should not generalize in these matters: It is the individual artist that counts.

Our imagination flies -- we are its shadow on the earth.