There Is No Language Without Deceit.

Who Are We, Who Is Each One Of Us, If Not A Combination Of Experiences, Information, Books We Have Read, Things Imagined? Each Life Is An Encyclopedia, A Library, An Inventory Of Objects, A Series Of Styles, And Everything Can Be Constantly Shuffled And Reordered In Every Way Conceivable.

If One Wanted To Depict The Whole Thing Graphically, Every Episode, With Its Climax, Would Require A Three-dimensional, Or, Rather, No Model: Every Experience Is Unrepeatable. What Makes Lovemaking And Reading Resemble Each Other Most Is That Within Both Of Them Times And Spaces Open, Different From Measurable Time And Space.

Success Consists In Felicity Of Verbal Expression, Which Every So Often May Result From A Quick Flash Of Inspiration But As A Rule Involves A Patient Search... For The Sentence In Which Every Word Is Unalterable.

Writing Always Means Hiding Something In Such A Way That It Then Is Discovered.

Seek And Learn To Recognize Who And What, In The Midst Of Inferno, Are Not Inferno, Then Make Them Endure, Give Them Space