A Silent Mouth Is Sweet To Hear.

It Is From The Womb Of Art That Criticism Was Born.

I Am A Cemetery By The Moon Unblessed.

Modernity Is The Transitory, The Fugitive, The Contingent, Which Make Up One Half Of Art, The Other Being The Eternal And The Immutable. This Transitory Fugitive Element, Which Is Constantly Changing, Must Not Be Despised Or Neglected.

In Certain Almost Supernatural States Of The Soul, The Profundity Of Life Reveals Itself Entirely In The Spectacle, However Ordinary It May Be, Before One's Eyes. It Becomes Its Symbol.

I Set Out To Discover The Why Of It, And To Transform My Pleasure Into Knowledge.