I'll Never Waste My Dreams By Falling

We Have Not The Time To Take Our Time.

Every Work Of Art (unless It Is A Psuedo-intellectualist Work, A Work Already Comprised In Some Ideology That It Merely Illustrates, As With Brecht) Is Outside Ideology, Is Not Reducible To Ideology. Ideology Circumscribes Without Penetrating It. The Absence Of Ideology In A Work Does Not Mean An Absence Of Ideas; On The Contrary It Fertilizes Them.

Explanation Separates Us From Astonishment, Which Is The Only Gateway To The Incomprehensible.

Childhood Is The World Of Miracle And Wonder; As If Creation Rose, Bathed In The Light, Out Of The Darkness, Utterly New And Fresh And Astonishing. The End Of Childhood Is When Things Cease To Astonish Us.

Boredom Flourishes Too, When You Feel Safe. It's A Symptom Of Security.