The Critic Should Describe, And Not Prescribe.

Explanation Separates Us From Astonishment, Which Is The Only Gateway To The Incomprehensible.

Beauty Is A Precious Trace That Eternity Causes To Appear To Us And That It Takes Away From Us. A Manifestation Of Eternity, And A Sign Of Death As Well.

Mediocrity Is More Dangerous In A Critic Than In A Writer.

The Light Of Memory, Or Rather The Light That Memory Lends To Things, Is The Palest Light Of All. I Am Not Quite Sure Whether I Am Dreaming Or Remembering, Whether I Have Lived My Life Or Dreamed It. Just As Dreams Do, Memory Makes Me Profoundly Aware Of The Unreality, The Evanescence Of The World, A Fleeting Image In The Moving Water.

We Haven't The Time To Take Out Time.