Contact With The World Either

Living Is A Sickness To Which Sleep Provides Relief Every Sixteen Hours. It's A Palliative. The Remedy Is Death.

Pleasure May Come From Illusion, But Happiness Can Come Only Of Reality.

Satire Is The Disease Of Art.

In The Fine Arts, As In Many Other Things, We Know Well Only What We Have Not Learned.

Obscurity And Innocence, Twin Sisters, Escape Temptations Which Would Pierce Their Gossamer Armor, In Contact With The World.