Work While You Work, Play While You

Indeed, Happiness Is Nothing Other Than Being Encompassed, An After-image Of The Original Shelter Within The Mother. But For This Reason No One Who Is Happy Can Know That He Is So. To See Happiness, He Would Have To Pass Out Of It: To Be As If Already Born. He Who Says He Is Happy Lies, And In Invoking Happiness, Sins Against It. He Alone Keeps Faith Who Says: I Was Happy.

Estrangement Shows Itself Precisely In The Elimination Of Distance Between People.

Art Is Permitted To Survive Only If It Renounces The Right To Be Different, And Integrates Itself Into The Omnipotent Realm Of The Profane.

In Many People It Is Already An Impertinence To Say 'i'.

The Need To Let Suffering Speak Is A Condition Of All Truth. For Suffering Is Objectivity That Weighs Upon The Subject