'believe me, no good can come of it when the likes of us get married and play the bourgeois game. We weren't meant for that. We were made to be hermits or hackers, scholars or artists or saints in the desert. - Anything but husbands and fathers and docile employees!'

- written from Rapallo, Italy, in July 2001, just before The Artist's secret marriage to Angelika Woronov.

]+>Cyborg