A Tight Structural Form Opens Possibilities. Take

I Felt That The Decrepit State Of These Once Magnificent Buildings, With Their Broken Gutters, Walls Blackened By Rainwater, Crumbling Plaster Revealing The Coarse Masonry Beneath It, Windows Boarded Up Or Clad With Corrugated Iron, Precisely Reflected My Own State Of Mind.

The Capital Amassed In The Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries Through Various Forms Of Slave Economy Is Still In Circulation, Said De Jong, Still Bearing Interest, Increasing Many Times Over And Continually Burgeoning Anew.

How Happily, Said Austerlitz, Have I Sat Over A Book In The Deepening Twilight Until I Could No Longer Make Out The Words And My Mind Began To Wander, And How Secure Have I Felt Seated At The Desk In My House In The Dark Night, Just Watching The Tip Of My Pencil In The Lamplight Following Its Shadow, As If Of Its Own Accord And With Perfect Fidelity, While That Shadow Moved Regularly From Left To Right, Line By Line, Over The Ruled Paper.

To Set One's Name To A Work Gives No One A Title To Be Remembered, For Who Knows How Many Of The Best Of Men Have Gone Without A Trace? The Iniquity Of Oblivion Blindly Scatters Her Poppyseed And When Wretchedness Falls Upon Us One Summer's Day Like Snow, All We Wish For Is To Be Forgotten.

I Believe That The Black-and-white Photograph, Or Rather The Gray Zones In The Black-and-white Photograph, Stand For This Territory That Is Located Between Life And Death.