Color Is The Fruit Of Life.

I Sing The Joy Of Wandering And The Pleasure Of The Wanderer's Death

One Can't Carry One's Father's Corpse About Everywhere.

I Love Men, Not For What Unites Them, But For What Divides Them, And I Want To Know Most Of All What Gnaws At Their Hearts.

Now And Then It's Good To Pause In Our Pursuit Of Happiness And Just Be Happy.

Artists Are, Above All, Men Who Want To Become Inhuman.