We Know That The Nature Of Genius

In Our Day There Are No Longer Any Ideas, Or They Are Scarcer Than Hens' Teeth.

Light Is Meaningful Only In Relation To Darkness, And Truth Presupposes Error. It Is These Mingled Opposites Which People Our Life, Which Make It Pungent, Intoxicating. We Only Exist In Terms Of This Conflict, In The Zone Where Black And White Clash.

Your Imagination, My Dear Fellow, Is Worth More Than You Imagine.

No More Painters, No More Scribblers, No More Musicians, No More Sculptors, No More Religions, No More Royalists, No More Radicals, No More Imperialists, No More Anarchists, No More Socialists, No More Communists, No More Proletariat, No More Democrats, No More Republicans, No More Bourgeois, No More Aristocrats, No More Arms, No More Police, No More Nations, An End At Last To All This Stupidity, Nothing Left, Nothing At All, Nothing, Nothing.

Your Heart Like A Hawk-mouth In The Sun, Your Heart Like A Ship On An Atoll, Your Heart Like A Compass Needle Driven Mad By A Little Piece Of Lead, Like Washing Drying In The Wind, Like A Whining Of Horses, Like Seed Thrown To The Birds, Like An Evening Paper One Has Finished Reading! Your Heart Is A Charade That The Whole World Has Guessed.