In Quoting Others, We Cite Ourselves.

All Profound Distraction Opens Certain Doors. You Have To Allow Yourself To Be Distracted When You Are Unable To Concentrate.

Everything Can Be Killed Except Nostalgia For The Kingdom, We Carry It In The Color Of Our Eyes, In Every Love Affair, In Everything That Deeply Torments And Unties And Tricks.

Only In Dreams, In Poetry, In Play Do We Sometimes Arrive At What We Were Before We Were This Thing That, Who Knows, We Are.

The Fantastic Breaks The Crust Of Appearance … Something Grabs Us By The Shoulders To Throw Us Outside Ourselves. I Have Always Known That The Big Surprises Await Us Where We Have Learned To Be Surprised By Nothing, That Is, Where We Are Not Shocked By Ruptures In The Order.

Where Are The Beginnings, The Endings, And Most Important, The Middles?