Khrushchev’s wager was that his (limited) confession would strengthen the communist movement – and in the short term he was right. One should always … - Slavoj Žižek

My relationship towards tulips is inherently Lynchian: I think they are disgusting. Just imagine, aren't these some kind of--how do you call it? Vagina dentatas--dental vaginas, threatening to swallow you. I think that- that flowers are something inherently disgusting. I mean, are people aware what a horrible thing these flowers are? I mean, basically, it's an open invitation to all- to all- to- to all the insects and bees, "Come and screw me." You know? I mean, it's-- I think that flowers should be forbidden to children.

Actual history occurs, so the speak, on credit; only subsequent development will decide retroactively if the current revolutionary violence will be forgiven, legitimated, or if it will continue to exert a pressure on the shoulders of the present generation as its guilt, as its unsettled debt.

I hate writing. I so intensely hate writing — I cannot tell you how much. The moment I am at the end of one project I have the idea that I didn’t really succeed in telling what I wanted to tell, that I need a new project — it’s an absolute nightmare. But my whole economy of writing is in fact based on an obsessional ritual to avoid the actual act of writing.