Whatever Needs To Be Maintained Through Force

When I Reflect That The Task Which The Artist Implicitly Sets Himself Is To Overthrow Existing Values, To Make Of The Chaos About Him An Order Which Is His Own, To Sow Strife And Ferment So That By The Emotional Release Those Who Are Dead May Be Restored To Life, Then It Is That I Run With Joy To The Great And Imperfect Ones, Their Confusion Nourishes Me, Their Stuttering Is Like Divine Music To My Ears.

Life Has To Be Given A Meaning Because Of The Obvious Fact That It Has No Meaning.

Whatever There Be Of Progress In Life Comes Not Through Adaptation But Through Daring.

I'm Delirious Because I'm Dying So Fast.

There's Something Perverse About Women...they're All Masochists At Heart.