Author of quotes: Heinrich Boll

The most unscrupulous artist has a thousand times more conscience than the most conscientious manager, in addition, they have a weapon that is impossible to fight against - a clear understanding that a creative person is not able not to do what he does: either to paint, either perform in cities and towns like a clown, or sing, or carve immortals from granite

I have to go the way I have to go.

In the life of a child, everything, even the most banal, acquires significance.

Free time for a non-artist is the same as working time for a clown. All people, from a highly paid manager to ordinary workers, know what free time is. And the clown has free moments - he sits down comfortably and, having smoked some half a cigarette, is imbued with the consciousness of what it means to be free. But the so-called vacation is like death for us.

Tell me, is love worth it? Are you silent? Apparently not worth it. Is it worth it to get married, have children, then die in peace? Are you silent? Apparently not worth it.

When lawlessness became law, I realized that my antipathy towards people was legitimate; they swarm like flies smelling shit. Like flies on carrion, they rushed for money, for honors, for fame, for success.

He asked me about the laws... and I had to tell him about the iniquities.

Maybe you are destined for what I am not destined: to know at least one person to the end. Me. The one you love.

There is no person on earth whom I know as well as I know you, and yet - I do not know anything.

Why is the clock always round? You never noticed how funny they are, those tiny second hands, always chasing something and can't keep up, no way. They are so diligent, stupidly diligent, but they can't catch what they want to catch, no way.

You can’t walk in the swamp, either you will bypass it, or you will get stuck.

Yes, you still have time. But do not yawn, not that time will dispose of you in its own way. Time is like a dodder: imperceptibly it wraps itself around us, and suddenly you realize that you have fallen into a trap - time has sucked all the juice out of you, strangled ...

Years are filled with sand, like a river delta... People swallow grains of sand for decades, one after another, and then they suddenly realize: at the bottom of the soul, a sediment heavy as lead forms: laziness and melancholy...

Life forces us to do a lot of things that we don't like... it's bad when we start to like it. You can’t indulge stupidity, no matter how they glorify it ...