Melancholy Betrays The World For The Sake

To Perceive The Aura Of An Object We Look At Means To Invest It With The Ability To Look At Us In Return.

The Power Of A Text When It Is Read Is Different From The Power It Has When It Is Copied Out. Only The Copied Text Thus Commands The Soul Of Him Who Is Occupied With It, Whereas The Mere Reader Never Discovers The New Aspects Of His Inner Self That Are Opened By The Text, That Road Cut Through The Interior Jungle Forever Closing Behind It: Because The Reader Follows The Movement Of His Mind In The Free Flight Of Day-dreaming, Whereas The Copier Submits It To Command.

Literature Tells Very Little To Those Who Understand It.

Allegories Are, In The Realm Of Thought, What Ruins Are In The Realm Of Things.

Reminiscences, Even Extensive Ones, Do Not Always Amount To An Autobiography. For Autobiography Has To Do With Time, With Sequence And What Makes Up The Continuous Flow Of Life. Here, I Am Talking Of A Space, Of Moments And Discontinuities. For Even If Months And Years Appear Here, It Is In The Form They Have At The Moment Of Commemoration.