I will propose a game: the year without names. For one year books will be published without the author’s name. The critics will have to manage with an entirely anonymous production. But I suspect that perhaps they will have nothing to say: all the authors will wait until the next years to publish their books (p. 28).
What strikes me is the fact that in our society, art has become something which is related only to objects and not to individuals, or to life. That art is something which is specialized or which is done by experts who are artists. But couldn't everyone's life become a work of art? Why should the lamp or the house b an art object, but not our life? (p. 33).
I don't know what work of Foucault's these quotes come from. Regardless, I think they are great!