A Nude By Degas Is Chaste. But

I Sit At My Door, Smoking A Cigarette And Sipping My Absinthe, And I Enjoy Every Day Without A Care In The World

There Is No Such Thing As Exaggerated Art. I Even Believe That There Is Salvation Only In Extreme.

Slyly, Banteringly, But Also Overbearingly, The Critic - The One Who Does Not Swallow Anything Whole, Who Waits Until Posterity Has Consecrated It Before... Howling - Is Among Those Who Howl Their Admiration The Way They Howl Their Insults: Don't Be Afraid, Don't Tremble - The Beast Doesn't Have Any Nails Or Teeth, Or Even Brain: It Is Stuffed.

The Great Artist Is A Formulation Of The Greatest Intelligence: He Is The Recipient Of Sensations Which Are The Most Delicate And Consequently The Most Invisible Expressions Of The Brain.

Happiness And Work Rose Up Together With The Sun, Radiant Like It.