Madness is the absolute break with the work of art; it forms the constitutive moment of abolition, which dissolves in time the truth of the work of art. – Michel Foucault
Chance does not speak essentially through words nor can it be seen in their convolution. It is the eruption of language, its sudden appearance. Its not a night twinkle with stars, an illuminated sleep, nor a drowsy vigil. It is the very edge of consciousness. – Michel Foucault