The sun's champagne streamed from one body into another. And there was a couple on the green silk of the grass, covered by a raspberry umbrella. Only their feet and a little bit of lace could be seen. In the magnificent universe beneath the raspberry umbrella, with closed eyes, they drank in the sparkling madness. 'Extra! Extra! Zeppelins over the North Sea at 3 o'clock.' But under the umbrella, in the raspberry universe, they were immortal. What did it matter that in another far-away universe people would be killing each other?

The next stage of development, perhaps in the distant future, will be a social order under which there will be no need for the coercive power of the state.

There is no final one; revolutions are infinite.

Along the blade of a knife lies the path of paradox—the single most worthy path of the fearless mind . . . .

The most effective way of destroying art is the canonization of one given form. And one philosophy.

The highly complex, almost mathematical, nature of music creates for it an ironclad protection against the microbes of dilletantism, which penetrate much more easily into the fields of painting, literature, and the theater.

Literature is painting, architecture, and music.