Moralistic Is Not Moral. And

Art Is Not Cozy And It Is Not Mocked. Art Tells The Only Truth That Ultimately Matters. It Is The Light By Which Human Things Can Be Mended. And After Art There Is, Let Me Assure You All, Nothing.

We Must Live By The Light Of Our Own Self-satisfaction, Through That Secret Vital Busy Inwardness Which Is Even More Remarkable Than Our Reason.

The Notion That One Will Not Survive A Particular Catastrophe Is, In General Terms, A Comfort Since It Is Equivalent To Abolishing The Catastrophe.

Being Homosexual Doesn't Determine A Man's Whole Character Any More Than Being Heterosexual Does.

Art Is A Kind Of Artificial Memory And The Pain Which Attends All Serious Art Is A Sense Of That Factitiousness.