In Every Case The Storyteller Is A

Never Stop Writing Because You Have Run Out Of Ideas.

The Crowd Is The Veil Through Which The Familiar City Beckons To The Flâneur As Phantasmagoria-now A Landscape, Now A Room.

Living Substance Conquers The Frenzy Of Destruction Only In The Ecstasy Of Procreation.

It Is The Task Of The Translator To Release In His Own Language That Pure Language That Is Under The Spell Of Another, To Liberate The Language Imprisoned In A Work In His Re-creation Of That Work.

The Idea That Happiness Could Have A Share In Beauty Would Be Too Much Of A Good Thing.