Words Make Love With One Another.

I Insist On Knowing The Names, On Being Interested Only In Books Left Ajar, Like Doors; I Will Not Go Looking For Keys.

Beauty Is Like A Train That Ceaselessly Roars Out Of The Gare De Lyon And Which I Know Will Never Leave, Which Has Not Left. It Consists Of Jolts And Shocks, Many Of Which Do Not Have Much Importance, But Which We Know Are Destined To Produce One Shock, Which Does...the Human Heart, Beautiful As A Seismograph...beauty Will Be Convulsive Or Will Not Be At All.

It Is More Or Less A Given That Nothing Is Less Favorable To Clairvoyance Than The Bright Sun: Physical Light And Mental Light Coexist On Very Poor Terms.

There Is Nothing With Which It Is So Dangerous To Take Liberties As Liberty Itself.

No Rules Exist, And Examples Are Simply Life-savers Answering The Appeals Of Rules Making Vain Attempts To Exist.