The Animal Has Secrets Which, Unlike The

The Heart Of Paris Is Like Nothing So Much As The Unending Interior Of A House. Buildings Become Furniture, Courtyards Become Carpets And Arrases, The Streets Are Like Galleries, The Boulevards Conservatories. It Is A House, One Or Two Centuries Old, Rich, Bourgeois, Distinguished. The Only Way Of Going Out, Or Shutting The Door Behind You, Is To Leave The Centre.

All Weddings Are Similar, But Every Marriage Is Different.

A Cigarette Is A Breathing Space. It Makes A Parenthesis. The Time Of A Cigarette Is A Parenthesis, And If It Is Shared, You Are Both In That Parenthesis. Its Like A Proscenium Arch For A Dialogue.

Today The Discredit Of Words Is Very Great. Most Of The Time The Media Transmit Lies. In The Face Of An Intolerable World, Words Appear To Change Very Little. State Power Has Become Congenitally Deaf, Which Is Why But The Editorialists Forget It Terrorists Are Reduced To Bombs And Hijacking.

Hope Is A Contraband Passed From Hand To Hand And Story To Story.