Every word that is spoken and sung here (the Cabaret Voltaire) represents at least this one thing: that this humiliating age has not succeeded in winning our respect.

Why can't a tree be called Pluplusch?

The mama of dada

Everywhere, the ethical predicament of our time imposes itself with an urgency which suggests that even the question "Have we anything to eat?" will be answered not in material but in ethical terms.

The symbolic view of things is a consequence of long absorption in images. Is sign language the real language of Paradise?

We should burn all libraries and allow to remain only that which everyone knows by heart. A beautiful age of the legend would then begin.