Rock and Roll adolescent hoodlums storm the streets of all nations. They rush into the Louvre and throw acid in the Mona Lisa's face.

Nothing is true, everything is permitted.

There is no intensity of love or feeling that does not involve the risk of crippling hurt. It is a duty to take this risk, to love and feel without defense or reserve.

Intelligence and war are games, perhaps the only meaningful games left. If any player becomes too proficient, the game is threatened with termination.

There couldn't be a society of people who didn't dream. They'd be dead in two weeks.

All political movements are basically anti-creative - since a political movement is a form of war.

The Planet drifts to random insect doom.