What makes an established religion? The power to punish blasphemy.
Religion, art, taste, and other delusions.
The more that is shown, the less that is suggested; and to show everything, suggesting nothing, is pornography, regardless of the subject.
The contemporary doctrine that art should shock, and the greater the shock the better the art, is the last twilit ruin of Longinian aesthetics — sublimity for a jaded age.
The punishment for a hit is to watch your aging audience stifle their boredom while they wait for you to play it, at every show, until you quit or die.
Heaven we believe in: Hell we are familiar with.
For every piece of pornography, no matter how crude or explicit, critics can be found to praise its bold, transgressive, sophisticated commentary on the acts in question.
Aesthetics trumps not just politics but ethics.
Beauty has no history, and every history of art is only a history of taste.
Nearly all great movies adhere quite rigidly to the conventions of a genre, nearly all movies that try not to do so are disasters, and so it is with lives.
The obscure artist awaits the verdict of posterity, unable to compete with the living, expecting to compete with the dead.