Competitions are for horses, not artists.

— Béla Tarr

These are the days that must happen to you.

— Walt Whitman

The finest steel has to go through the hottest fire.

— Íkaros

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Erwin Heerich | Fontana Pavillon | 2000

There is immeasurably more left inside than what comes out in words.

— Fyodor Dostoevsky

My summer '77 with Gordon Matta-Clark ...

Francesca Woodman

Art attracts us only by what it reveals of our most secret self.

— Jean-Luc Godard

Stop insisting on clearing your head — clear your fucking heart instead.

— Charles Bukowski

These are my last words, and I am certain that my sacrifice will not be in vain, I am certain that, at the very least, it will be a moral lesson that will punish felony, cowardice, and treason.

— Salvador Allende

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It is essential to leave some space empty; you could — and should — never fill in all the blanks.

— David Levithan

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All is linked. All is consequence.

— Jean-Luc Godard

We have not been given the lead in the cosmic drama.

— Carl Sagan

Truth is in all things, even, partly, in error.

— Jean-Luc Godard

Manuel González Rul | Casa Otero | 1952

I am still at war with a battle that is already lost.

— Clementine von Radics

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Reinhard Krause | Am Ruhrschnellweg | 1988

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This incompleteness is all we have.

— Charles Bukowski

[...] Responding to the industrial architecture of the Kokerei and an overwhelming urge to lament the monumental history of the area, I want to create a pantomime of sound, theatrical effects and visual image. I reject the concept of opera as the classical means by which to explore "tragedy", at least for now. I love the idea to provoke myself with the idea that the pantomime allows tears of laughter as well tears of regret; as I said to someone recently ... "we all cry. But whose tears are most bitter, or more salt, and whose are sweeter?" Quoting James Joyce's character in "A portrait of the artist as a young man" — "using for my defence the only arms I allow myself to use — silence, exile, and cunning." I'm trying to kidnap the character of Stephen Dedalus for myself but throwing open the question as to "who is in charge" — the viewer, the reader, the artist or the performer. Materials; Naked voice, cello, naked body, ropes, birds, smoke, mirrors, blinding light, dark darkness. In the pantomime style, nothing is what it seems to the performer but to the audience — it's clear ... It's behind you! Oh, no, it's not! Oh yes it is!

Trust me,

— Douglas Gordon

sqq. Silence, Exile, Deceit

If you have reasons to love someone, you don't love them.

— Slavoj Žižek

Ryoji Ikeda, test pattern [100 m version], Ruhrtriennale, 2013

Max Dudler | Folkwang Library | 2012

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And the rest is rust and stardust.

— Vladimir Nabokov

Diethard Wendtland, selbständiger Münzkaufmann.

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