How Hard Is It, When Everything Encourages

It Is Not A Certain Conformity Of Manners That The Painting Of Van Gogh Attacks, But Rather The Conformity Of Institutions Themselves. And Even External Nature, With Her Climates, Her Tides, And Her Equinoctial Storms, Cannot, After Van Gogh's Stay Upon Earth, Maintain The Same Gravitation.

Written Poetry Is Worth Reading Once, And Then Should Be Destroyed. Let The Dead Poets Make Way For Others. Then We Might Even Come To See That It Is Our Veneration For What Has Already Been Created, However Beautiful And Valid It May Be, That Petrifies Us.

I Myself Am An Absolute Abyss.

And What Is An Authentic Madman? It Is A Man Who Preferred To Become Mad, In The Socially Accepted Sense Of The Word, Rather Than Forfeit A Certain Superior Idea Of Human Honor. So Society Has Strangled In Its Asylums All Those It Wanted To Get Rid Of Or Protect Itself From, Because They Refused To Become Its Accomplices In Certain Great Nastinesses. For A Madman Is Also A Man Whom Society Did Not Want To Hear And Whom It Wanted To Prevent From Uttering Certain Intolerable Truths.

I Am Adding Another Language To The Spoken Language, And I Am Trying To Restore To The Language Of Speech Its Old Magic, Its Essential Spellbinding Power, For Its Mysterious Possibilities Have Been Forgotten.