Today Each Of You Is The Object

We Could Say, Then, That Man Is An Instrument The World Employs To Renew Its Own Image Constantly.

The Soul Is Often In The Surface, And The Importance Of 'depth' Is Overestimated.

The City Of Cats And The City Of Men Exist One Inside The Other, But They Are Not The Same City.

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.

Cities, Like Dreams, Are Made Of Desires And Fears.