In Quoting Others, We Cite Ourselves.

Of All Our Feelings The Only One Which Really Doesn't Belong To Us Is Hope. Hope Belongs To Life, It's Life Itself Defending Itself. Etcetera.

The Unusual Is Only Found In A Very Small Percentage, Except In Literary Creations, And That Is Exactly What Makes Literature.

The Modern Story Begun, One Might Say, With Edgar Allan Poe, Which Proceeds Inexorably, Like A Machine Destined To Accomplish Its Mission With The Maximum Economy Of Means.

There Was A Time When I Thought A Great Deal About The Axolotls. I Went To See Them At The Aquarium At The Jardin Des Plantes And Stayed For Hours Watching Them, Observing Their Immobility; Their Faint Movements. Now I Am An Axolotl.

La Maga Did Not Know That My Kisses Were Like Eyes Which Began To Open Up Beyond Her, And That I Went Along Outside As If I Saw A Different Concept Of The World, The Dizzy Pilot Of A Black Prow Which Cut The Water Of Time And Negated It.