Art is magic delivered from the lie of being truth.

Author: Theodor W. Adorno

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Only a humanity to whom death has become as indifferent as its members, that has itself died, can inflict it administratively on innumerable people.

For a man who no longer has a homeland, writing becomes a place to live.

The hardest hit, as everywhere, are those who have no choice.

Exuberant health is always as such sickness also.

To see what is in front of one's nose needs a constant struggle.

The further a society drifts from the truth, the more it will hate those who speak it.

What draws people to be friends is that they see the same truth. They share it.

The truth is, of course, that what one regards as interruptions are precisely one's life.