As A Child I Was A Great

Art Is Uncompromising, And Life Is Full Of Compromises.

In Statistics, What Disappears Behind Rows Of Numbers Is Death.

People Have Always Told Tales. Long Before Humanity Learned To Write And Gradually Became Literate, Everybody Told Tales To Everybody Else And Everybody Listened To Everybody Else's Tales. Before Long It Became Clear That Some Of The Still Illiterate Storytellers Told More And Better Tales Than Others, That Is, They Could Make More People Believe Their Lies.

There Must Be Reasons Why We Men Are So Hipped On Breasts As If We'd All Been Weaned Too Soon.

I Shall Speak Of How Melancholy And Utopia Preclude One Another. How They Fertilize One Another... Of The Revulsion That Follows One Insight And Precedes The Next... Of Superabundance And Surfeit. Of Stasis In Progress. And Of Myself, For Whom Melancholy And Utopia Are Heads And Tails Of The Same Coin.