Intelligence Is A Moral Category.

The Expression If History In Things Is No Other Than That Of Past Torment.

Art As A Whole Is A Riddle. Another Way Of Putting This Is To Say That Art Expresses Something While At The Same Time Hiding It.

Thus Is Order Ensured: Some Have To Play The Game Because They Cannot Otherwise Live, And Those Who Could Live Otherwise Are Kept Out Because They Do Not Want To Play The Game. It Is As If The Class From Which Independent Intellectuals Have Defected Takes Its Revenge, By Pressing Its Demands Home In The Very Domain Where The Deserter Seeks Refuge.

Advancing Bourgeois Society Liquidates Memory, Time, Recollection As Irrational Leftovers Of The Past.

All The World's Not A Stage.