- Klimt: Who art thou Asked the guardian of the night From crystal purity I come Was my reply And great my thirst, Persephone Yet heeding thy decree I take to flight and turn, and turn again Forever right I spurn the pallid cypress tree Seek no refreshment at its sylvan spring but hasten on toward the rustling river of Mnemosyne Wherein I drink to sweet satiety And there, dipping my palms between The knots and loopings of its mazy stream I see again, as in a drowning swimmers dream All the strange sights I ever saw And even stranger sights no man has ever seen
- Klaus Ofczarek: They say that you have to stand outside of history. This history is a nightmare. And that there's absolutely nothing else to be said about it. They sound like philosophers.Except they say philosophy is rubbish.
- Hugo Moritz: A concept that changes as the era changes. For him nothing is ugly. It just depends on the era.