Science Is Spectral Analysis. Art Is Light

Sentimental Irony Is A Dog That Bays At The Moon While Pissing On Graves.

Progress, Under Whose Feet The Grass Mourns And The Forest Turns Into Paper From Which Newspaper Plants Grow, Has Subordinated The Purpose Of Life To The Means Of Subsistence And Turned Us Into The Nuts And Bolts For Our Tools.

Immortality Is The Only Thing Which Doesn't Tolerate Being Postponed.

The Pimp Is The Executive Organ Of Immorality. The Executive Organ Of Morality Is The Blackmailer.

When I Want To Go To Sleep, I Must First Get A Whole Menagerie Of Voices To Shut Up. You Wouldn't Believe What A Racket They Make In My Room.