One Must Conform To The Baseness Of

He Who Is Allowed To Do As He Likes Will Soon Run His Head Into A Brick Wall Out Of Sheer Frustration.

I Am Not Only Convinced That What I Say Is False, But Also That What One Might Say Against It Is False. Despite This, One Must Begin To Talk About It. In Such A Case The Truth Lies Not In The Middle, But Rather All Around, Like A Sack, Which, With Each New Opinion One Stuffs Into It, Changes Its Form, And Becomes More And More Firm.

Progress Would Be Wonderful - If Only It Would Stop.

Is Not Art A Tool We Employ To Peel The Kitsch Off Life? Layer By Layer Art Strips Life Bare. The More Abstract It Gets, The More Transparent The Air Is. Can It Be That The Farther It Is Removed From Life, The Clearer Art Becomes?

Mathematics Is The Source Of A Wicked Intellect That, While Making Man The Lord Of The Earth, Also Makes Him The Slave Of The Machine.