Everything Is Explicable In The Terms Of

Every Stink That Fights The Ventilator Thinks It Is Don Quixote.

Either Something Is Authentic Or It Is Unauthentic, It Is Either False Or True, Make-believe Or Spontaneous Life; Yet Here We Are Faced With A Prevaricated Truth And An Authentic Fake, Hence A Thing That Is At Once The Truth And A Lie.

It Is Not Good For A Man To Be Too Cognizant Of His Physical And Spiritual Mechanisms. Complete Knowledge Reveals Limits To Human Possibilities, And The Less A Man Is By Nature Limited In His Purposes, The Less He Can Tolerate Limits.

There Are Friends With Whom We Share Neither Interests Nor Any Particular Experiences, Friends With Whom We Never Correspond, Whom We Seldom Meet And Then Only By Chance, But Whose Existence Nonetheless Has For Us A Special If Uncanny Meaning. For Me The Eiffel Tower Is Just Such A Friend, And Not Merely Because It Happens To Be The Symbol Of A City, For Paris Leaves Me Neither Hot Nor Cold. I First Became Aware Of This Attachment Of Mine When Reading In The Paper About Plans For Its Demolition, The Mere Thought Of Which Filled Me With Alarm.

I Felt Myself Being Invaded Through And Through, I Crumbled, Disintegrated, And Only Emptiness Remained.