In Every Case The Storyteller Is A

Any Order Is A Balancing Act Of Extreme Precariousness.

I Would Like To Metamorphose Into A Mouse-mountain.

He Who Asks Fortune-tellers The Future Unwittingly Forfeits An Inner Intimation Of Coming Events That Is A Thousand Times More Exact Than Anything They May Say. He Is Impelled By Inertia, Rather Than Curiosity, And Nothing Is More Unlike The Submissive Apathy With Which He Hears His Fate Revealed Than The Alert Dexterity With Which The Man Of Courage Lays Hands On The Future.

Kitsch Offers Instantaneous Emotional Gratification Without Intellectual Effort, Without The Requirement Of Distance, Wihtout Sublimation.

For What Is The Program Of The Bourgeois Parties? A Bad Poem On Springtime, Filled To Bursting With Metaphors.