If Time Is Money, It Seems Moral

In The End, The Writer Is Not Even Allowed To Live In His Writing.

The Forms Of Art Reflect The History Of Man More Truthfully Than Do Documents Themselves.

In Psycho-analysis Nothing Is True Except The Exaggerations.

He Who Stands Aloof Runs The Risk Of Believing Himself Better Than Others And Misusing His Critique Of Society As An Ideology For His Private Interest. While He Gropingly Forms His Own Life In The Frail Image Of A True Existence, He Should Never Forget Its Frailty, Nor How Little The Image Is A Substitute For True Life. Against Such Awareness, However, Pulls The Momentum Of The Bourgeois Within Him.

Quality Is Decided By The Depth At Which The Work Incorporates The Alternatives Within Itself, And So Masters Them.