After The Age Of 50 We Begin

The Evolution From Happiness To Habit Is One Of Death's Best Weapons.

I Sometimes Longed For Someone Who, Like Me, Had Not Adjusted Perfectly With His Age, And Such A Person Was Hard To Find; But I Soon Discovered Cats, In Which I Could Imagine A Condition Like Mine, And Books, Where I Found It Quite Often.

You're Like A Witness. You're The One Who Goes To The Museum And Looks At The Paintings. I Mean The Paintings Are There And You're In The Museum Too, Near And Far Away At The Same Time. I'm A Painting. Rocamadour Is A Painting. Etienne Is A Painting, This Room Is A Painting. You Think That You're In The Room But You're Not. You're Looking At The Room, You're Not In The Room.

The Short-story Writer Knows That He Can't Proceed Cumulatively, That Time Is Not His Ally. His Only Solution Is To Work Vertically, Heading Up Or Down In Literary Space.

What Good Is A Writer If He Can't Destroy Literature? And Us... What Good Are We If We Don't Help As Much As We Can In That Destruction?