Aestheticism is the garbage of intuitive feeling.

— Kazimir Malevich

Do you know what is truly magnificent? One tear, which is falling down from an authentic sensitive person's eye. Down the cheek and adorns the floor.

— Alexander Zalan

He fetishized limits.

— Rick Perlstein

His room was a sickly dual-tone of crimson and charcoal, like an Untitled Rothko, the colors bleeding into each other horribly and then rather serenely. The overall effect was overwhelmingly unapologetic, but it grew on you like a wart on your nose you didn't realize it was a part of your identity until one day it simply was. His room was his identity. Fiercely bold, avant-garde but never monotonous. He was red, he was black, he was bored, and he was fire. At least to me, he seemed like fire. A tornado of fire that burned all in its wake leaving only the wretched brightness of annihilation. His room was where he charmed and disarmed us. We were his playthings. Nobody plays with fire and leaves unscarred. The fire soon seeps into chard and soot. The colors of his soul, his aura, and probably his heart if he didn't stop smoking.

— Moonshine Noire

Oscar Wilde was born in Dublin, on the 15th October 1856, so that he is now about twenty-six years of age, but brief as has been his career, it has been full of promise for the future. The son of highly intellectual parents, he has had an exceptional education, has travelled much in wild and remote, through classic lands, and in the course of these journeys has learned to appreciate the beauties of the old authors, in whose works whilst at college he attained exceptional proficiency. But his naturally enthusiastic temperament teaches him to hope for better in the future than has been achieved in the past, and to see how vast will be the influence of Art and Literature on the coming democracy of Intellect, when education and culture shall have taught men to pride themselves on what they have done, and not alone on the deeds of their ancestors.

— Walter Hamilton

Take delight on a woman’s pubic hair for it's a signature of maturity and a secretive covenant. . . The hair signifies potent sexual energy and strength hold but also signifies virility of the animalistic tendencies and royal power. . . A woman who rejects narcissism of complete vaginal hair removal gives a signature of strength, virtuously liberated, body acceptance, and more womanhood.

— John Shelton Jones

There are gentle souls who would pronounce Lolita meaningless because it does not teach them anything. I am neither a reader nor a writer of didactic fiction, and, despite John Ray's assertion, Lolita has no moral in tow. For me a work of fiction exists only insofar as it affords me what I shall bluntly call aesthetic bliss, that is a sense of being somehow, somewhere, connected with other states of being where art (curiosity, tenderness, kindness, ecstasy) is the norm. There are not many such books. All the rest is either topical trash or what some call the Literature of Ideas, which very often is topical trash coming in huge blocks of plaster that are carefully transmitted from age to age until somebody comes along with a hammer and takes a good crack at Balzac, at Gorky, at Mann.

— Vladimir Nabokov

Writing is a series of verbal suggestions designed to provoke a psychological reaction and an aesthetic experience.

— Stewart Stafford

You don't need a prophet to tell you to eat.

— Geraldine Brooks