“the worst thing,” he told me,”is bitterness, people end up sobitter.”

“Smartass Disciple: Master, what are you talking about? None of us understand!Master of Stupidity: Be patient! It is not ended yet. The end justifies the means.”

“A piece of art comes to life, when we can feel, it is breathing, when it talks to us and starts raising questions. It may dispel biased perceptions; make us recognize ignored fragments and remember forsaken episodes of our life story. Art may sometimes even be nasty and disturbing, if we don’t want to consent to its philosophy or concept, but it might, in the end, perhaps reconcile us with ourselves. (“When is Art?”)”