Memories Images, Once They Are Fixed In

You Reach A Moment In Life When, Among The People You Have Known, The Dead Outnumber The Living. And The Mind Refuses To Accept More Faces, More Expressions: On Every New Face You Encounter, It Prints The Old Forms, For Each One It Finds The Most Suitable Mask.

A Person's Life Consists Of A Collection Of Events, The Last Of Which Could Also Change The Meaning Of The Whole, Not Because It Counts More Than The Previous Ones But Because Once They Are Included In A Life, Events Are Arranged In An Order That Is Not Chronological But, Rather, Corresponds To An Inner Architecture.

The City, However, Does Not Tell Its Past, But Contains It Like The Lines Of A Hand

...life Is Nothing But Trading Smells.

For Those Who Pass It Without Entering, The City Is One Thing; It Is Another For Those Who Are Trapped By It And Never Leave. There Is The City Where You Arrive For The First Time; And There Is Another City Which You Leave Never To Return. Each Deserves A Different Name; Perhaps I Have Already Spoken Of Irene Under Other Names; Perhaps I Have Spoken Only Of Irene.