Beauty beheld in solitude is even more lethal.

I am a collection of the family's body parts.

There were three of us; Witkiewicz, Bruno Schulz, and myself--the three muskateers of the Polish avant-garde between the wars. Only Witkiewicz remains to be discovered.

Against the background of general freakishness the case of my particular freakishness was lost.

To contradict, even in little matters, is the supreme necessity of art today.

Wherever I see some mystique, be it virtue or family, faith or fatherland, there I must commit some indecent act.

I am reading Sienkiewicz. What tormenting reading. What a powerful genius! And there never was such a first-rate writer of the second-rate class.