Art is magic delivered from the lie of being truth.

Every work of art is an uncommitted crime.

There is no love that is not an echo.

Love is the power to see similarity in the dissimilar.

Wrong life cannot be lived rightly.

Freedom would be not to choose between black and white but to abjure such prescribed choices.

True thoughts are those alone which do not understand themselves.

For a man who no longer has a homeland, writing becomes a place to live.

Horror is beyond the reach of psychology.

The task of art today is to bring chaos into order.