The Blank Page Gives Us The Right

Every Corner In A House, Every Angle In A Room, Every Inch Of Secluded Space In Which We Like To Hide, Or Withdraw Into Ourselves, Is A Symbol Of Solitude For The Imagination; That Is To Say, It Is The Germ Of A Room, Or Of A House.

In Order To Dream So Far, Is It Enough To Read? Isn't It Necessary To Write? Write As In Our Schoolboy Past, In Those Days When, As Bonnoure Says, The Letters Wrote Themselves One By One, Either In Their Gibbosity Or Else In Their Pretentious Elegance? In Those Days, Spelling Was A Drama, Our Drama Of Culture At Work In The Interior Of A Word.

Literary Imagination Is An Aesthetic Object Offered By A Writer To A Lover Of Books.

If There Is Any Realm Where Distinction Is Especially Difficult, It Is The Realm Of Childhood Memories, The Realm Of Beloved Images Harbored In Memory Since Childhood. These Memories Which Live By The Image And In Virtue Of The Image Become, At Certain Times Of Our Lives And Particularly During The Quiet Age, The Origin And Matter Of A Complex Reverie: The Memory Dreams, And Reverie Remembers.

A Man Is A Man To The Extent That He Is A Superman. A Man Should Be Defined By The Sum Of Those Tendencies Which Impel Him To Surpass The Human Condition.