I Am Not Capitulating.

All Cats Die. Socrates Is Dead. Therefore Socrates Is A Cat.

An Avant-garde Man Is Like An Enemy Inside A City He Is Bent On Destroying, Against Which He Rebels; For Like Any System Of Government, An Established Form Of Expression Is Also A Form Of Oppression. The Avant-garde Man Is The Opponent Of An Existing System.

The Critic Should Describe, And Not Prescribe.

No Society Has Been Able To Abolish Human Sadness, No Political System Can Deliver Us From The Pain Of Living, From Our Fear Of Death, Our Thirst For The Absolute. It Is The Human Condition That Directs The Social Condition, Not Vice Versa.

As Soon As One Knows One Is Going To Die, Childhood Is Over.... So One Can Be Grown Up At Seven. Then, I Believe Most Human Beings Forget What They Have Understood, Recover Another Sort Of Childhood That Can Last All Their Lives. It Is Not A True Childhood But A Kind Of Forgetting. Desires And Anxieties Are There, Preventing You From Having Access To The Essential Truth.