The Smell Of Opium Is The Least

Nothing Ever Gets Anywhere. The Earth Keeps Turning Round And Gets Nowhere. The Moment Is The Only Thing That Counts.

Art Produces Ugly Things Which Frequently Become More Beautiful With Time. Fashion, On The Other Hand, Produces Beautiful Things Which Always Become Ugly With Time.

One Should Always Talk Well About Oneself! The Word Spreads Around And In The End, Noone Remembers Where It Started

Poetry Is An Ethic. By Ethic I Mean A Secret Code Of Behavior, A Discipline Constructed And Conducted According To The Capabilities Of A Man Who Rejects The Falsifications Of The Categorical Imperative.

Style Is A Simple Way Of Saying Complicated Things.