I Never Reread What I've Written. I'm

Thus My Life Is A Flight And I Lose Everything And Everything Belongs To Oblivion, Or To Him.

Art Is Endless Like A River Flowing, Passing, Yet Remaining.

The Art Of Writing Is Mysterious, The Opinions We Hold Are Ephemeral.

The Earth We Inhabit Is An Error, An Incompetent Parody. Mirrors And Paternity Are Abominable Because They Multiply And Affirm It.

I Thought That A Man Can Be An Enemy Of Other Men, Of The Moments Of Other Men, But Not Of A Country: Not Of Fireflies, Words, Gardens, Streams Of Water, Sunsets.