Layer By Layer Art Strips Life Bare.

Anyone Who Still Wants To Experience Fairytales These Days Can’t Afford To Dither When It Comes To Using Their Brains.

Each Person Is A Graveyard Of His Thoughts. They Are Most Beautiful For Us In The Moment Of Their Birth; Later We Can Often Sense A Deep Pain That They Leave Us Indifferent Where Earlier They Enchanted Us.

The Thought Came To Me That All One Loves In Art Becomes Beautiful. Beauty Is Nothing But The Expression Of The Fact That Something Is Being Loved. Only Thus Could She Be Defined.

It Is Reality That Awakens Possibilities, And Nothing Would Be More Perverse Than To Deny It.

Have We Not Huddled In Bunkers, While Some Premonition Of Tomorrow Hung In The Air And A Comrade Started Singing? Oh, It Felt So Melancholy! And It Was Kitsch.