... There Is No Such Thing As

If There Is A Sense Of Reality, There Must Also Be A Sense Of Possibility.

... The Genius Never Makes Anything New, But Always Something That Is Just Different, And The Average Talents Provide Him The Possibility Within Which His Genius Condenses Into Achievements.

Time, Which Runs Through The World Like An Endless Tinsel Thread, Seemed To Pass Through The Centre Of This Room And Through The Centre Of These People And Suddenly To Pause And Petrify, Stiff, Still And Glittering... And The Objects In The Room Drew A Little Closer Together.

Stupidity Is Active In Every Direction, And Can Dress Up In All The Clothes Of Truth. Truth, On The Other Hand, Has For Every Occasion Only One Dress And One Path, And Is Always At A Disadvantage.

To Love Something As An Artist ... Means To Be Shaken Not By Its Ultimate Value Or Lack Of Value, But By A Side Of It That Suddenly Opens Up. Where Art Has Value It Shows Things That Few Have Seen. It's Conquering, Not Pacifying.