Joy Always Came After Pain.

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.

I Hate Artists Who Are Not Of Their Time.

The Plastic Virtues: Purity, Unity, And Truth, Keep Nature In Subjection.

Come To The Edge.' 'we Can't. We're Afraid.' 'come To The Edge.' 'we Can't. We Will Fall!' 'come To The Edge.' And They Came. And He Pushed Them. And They Flew.

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