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“Sometimes I wish I were a cannibal â€� less for the pleasure of eating someone than for the pleasure of vomiting him.”
― Emil Cioran, The Trouble With Being Born

“If we could truly see ourselves the way others see us we'd disappear on the spot.”
― Émile Michel Cioran

“If you're trapped in the dream of the Other, you're fucked.”
― Gilles Deleuze

“Pornography is certainly more beautiful than eroticism. Eroticism is ugly. Eroticism is an ideology... there is nothing more boring than eroticism, it's worse than poetry, even. I say three cheers for pornography.”
― Pierre Guyotat

“I’m forever near a stereo saying, ‘What the fuck is this garbage?â€� And the answer is always the Red Hot Chili Peppers.”
― Nick Cave

“The aim of literature ... is the creation of a strange object covered with fur which breaks your heart.”
― Donald Barthelme, Come Back, Dr. Caligari

“Busy remaking the world, man forgot to remake himself.”
― Andrei Platonov

“My ideal goal is to "mature" into childhood. That would be genuine maturity.”
― Bruno Schulz

“Intolerance of ambiguity is the mark of an authoritarian personality.”
― Theodor Adorno

“Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.”
― Leo Tolstoy

“We know ourselves as part and as crowd, in an unknown that does not terrify. We cry our cry of poetry. Our boats are open, and we sail them for everyone.”
― Édouard Glissant, Poetics of Relation

“To move from the oral to the written is to immobilise the body, to take control (to possess it).”
― Édouard Glissant, Caribbean Discourse: Selected Essays

“Once upon a time there was a poor child with no father and no mother everything was dead
and no one was left in the whole world.
Everything was dead
and it went and searched day and night And since nobody was left on the earth it wanted to go up to the heavens and the moon was looking at it so friendly and when it finally got to the moon the moon was a piece of rotten wood and then it went to the sun and when it got there the sun was a wilted sunflower and when it got to the stars they were little golden flies stuck up there
like the shrike sticks 'em on the blackthorn and when it wanted to go back down to earth the earth was an overturned piss pot! and was all alone.”
― Georg Büchner, Woyzeck

“Never be afraid to raise your voice for honesty and truth and compassion against injustice and lying and greed. If people all over the world...would do this, it would change the earth.”
― William Faulkner

“You once told me that the human eye is god's loneliest creation. How so much of the world passes through the pupil and still it holds nothing. The eye, alone in its socket, doesn't even know there's another one, just like it, an inch away, just as hungry, as empty.”
― Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

“God sends drunks blackouts because if they knew what they had done they would surely die of shame.”
― Lucia Berlin, A Manual for Cleaning Women: Selected Stories

“Since it is sure of its ability to control the entire domain of the visible and the audible via the laws governing commercial circulation and democratic communication, Empire no longer censures anything. All art, and all thought, is ruined when we accept this permission to consume, to communicate and to enjoy. We should become the pitiless censors of ourselves.”
― Alain Badiou

“Was Trakl a Christian? Yes, of course, at times he becomes a Christian, among a general confusion of becomings—becoming an animal, becoming a virus, becoming inorganic—just as he was also an antichrist, a poet, a pharmacist, an alcoholic, a drug addict, a psychotic, a leper, a suicide, an incestuous cannibal, a necrophiliac, a rodent, a vampire, and a werewolf. Just as he became his sister, and also a hermaphrodite. Trakl's texts are scrawled over by redemptionist monotheism, just as they are stained by narcotic fluidities, gnawed by rats, cratered by Russian artillery, charred and pitted by astronomical debris. Trakl was a Christian and an atheist and also a Satanist, when he wasn't simply undead, or in some other way inhuman. It is perhaps more precise to say that Trakl never existed, except as a battlefield, a reservoir of disease, the graveyard of a deconsecrated church, as something expiring from a massive cocaine overdose on the floor of a military hospital, cheated by lucidity by the searing onslaught of base difference.”
― Nick Land, Fanged Noumena: Collected Writings, 1987â€�2007

“Bring something incomprehensible into the world!”
― Gilles Deleuze, A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia

“Never work.”
― Guy Debord

“Write books only if you are going to say in them the things you would never dare confide to anyone.”
― Emil Cioran

“The splinter in your eye is the best magnifying-glass available.”
― Theodor W. Adorno

“Behind every work of art lies an uncommitted crime”
― Theodor Adorno