Those Who Fail To Reread Are Obliged

Each Of Us Has His Own Rhythm Of Suffering.

Literature Is Like Phosphorus: It Shines With Its Maximum Brilliance And The Moment When It Attempts To Die.

I Love You Is Unsubtle. It Removes Explanations, Facilities, Degrees, Scruples.

New York... Is A City Of Geometric Heights, A Petrified Desert Of Grids And Lattices, An Inferno Of Greenish Abstraction Under A Flat Sky, A Real Metropolis From Which Man Is Absent By His Very Accumulation.

Architecture Is Always Dream And Function, Expression Of A Utopia And Instrument Of A Convenience.