I Don't Like Quintessential Certitude.

The Initial Mystery That Attends Any Journey Is: How Did The Traveler Reach His Starting Point In The First Place?

I Don't Like Quintessential Certitude.

Stupidity Always Accompanies Evil. Or Evil, Stupidity.

The Intellectual Is A Middle-class Product; If He Is Not Born Into The Class He Must Soon Insert Himself Into It, In Order To Exist. He Is The Fine Nervous Flower Of The Bourgeoisie.

True Revolutions In Art Restore More Than They Destroy.