The story of my life doesn’t exist. Does not exist. There’s never any center to it. No path, no line. There are great spaces where you pretend there used to be someone, but it’s not true, there was no one.
“Revolutions in aesthetic sensibility may be the only way in which radical change can be brought about in the future… It may be only from aesthetic changes of one sort or another that one can expect a radical shift in the people’s consciousness.”