The Ideal Place For Me Is The

Every Choice Has Its Obverse, That Is To Say A Renunciation, And So There Is No Difference Between The Act Of Choosing And The Act Of Renouncing

Though I Leave The House As Little As Possible, I Have The Impression That Someone Is Disturbing My Papers. More Than Once I Have Discovered That Some Pages Were Missing From My Manuscripts. A Few Days Afterward I Would Find The Pages In Their Place Again. But Often I No Longer Recognize My Manuscripts, As If I Had Forgotten What I Had Written, Or As If Overnight I Were So Changed That No Longer Recognized Myself In The Self Of Yesterday.

Your First Book Already Defines You, While You Are Really Far From Being Defined. And This Definition Is Something You May Then Carry With You For The Rest Of Your Life, Trying To Confirm It Or Extend Or Correct Or Deny It; But You Can Never Eliminate It.

It Is Not The Voice That Commands The Story: It Is The Ear.

The Book I'm Looking For,' Says The Blurred Figure, Who Holds Out A Volume Similar To Yours, 'is The One That Gives The Sense Of The World After The End Of The World, The Sense That The World Is The End Of Everything That There Is In The World, That The Only Thing There Is In The World Is The End Of The World.