We Only See What We Look At.

Your Lips, Beloved, Are Like A Honeycomb: Honey And Milk Are Under The Tongue. And The Smell Of Your Clothes Is Like The Smell Of My Home.

Compassion Has No Place In The Natural Order Of The World Which Operates On The Basis Of Necessity. Compassion Opposes This Order And Is Therefore Best Thought Of As Being In Some Way Supernatural.

What Is Saved In The Cinema When It Achieves Art Is A Spontaneous Continuity With All Mankind.

The Poverty Of Our Century Is Unlike That Of Any Other. It Is Not, As Poverty Was Before, The Result Of Natural Scarcity, But Of A Set Of Priorities Imposed Upon The Rest Of The World By The Rich.

What Any True Painting Touches Is An Absence - An Absence Of Which Without The Painting, We Might Be Unaware. And That Would Be Our Loss.