Besides, Rereading, Not Reading, Is What Counts.

I Never Reread What I've Written. I'm Far Too Afraid To Feel Ashamed Of What I've Done.

The Original Is Unfaithful To The Translation.

I Think Most People Are More Important Than Their Opinions.

I Have Preferred To Teach My Students Not English Literature But My Love For Certain Authors, Or, Even Better, Certain Pages, Or Even Better Than That, Certain Lines. One Falls In Love With A Line, Then With A Page, Then With An Author. Well, Why Not? It Is A Beautiful Process.

The Thought Came Over Me That Never Would One Full And Absolute Moment, Containing All The Others, Justify My Life, That All Of My Instants Would Be Provisional Phases, Annihilators Of The Past Turned To Face The Future, And That Beyond The Episodic, The Present, The Circumstantial, We Were Nobody.