I, too, feel the need to reread the books I have already read, a third reader says, but at every rereading I seem to be reading a new book, for the first time. Is it I who keep changing and seeing new...
Don't be amazed if you see my eyes always wandering. In fact, this is my way of reading, and it is only in this way that reading proves fruitful to me. If a book truly interests me, I cannot follow it...
A classic is a book that has never finished what it wants to say.
Futures not achieved are only branches of the past: dead branches.
It is not the voice that commands the story it is the ear.
There is still one of which you never speak.'Marco Polo bowed his head.'Venice,' the Khan said.Marco smiled. 'What else do you believe I have been talking to you about?'The emperor did not turn a hair...
In the shop window you have promptly identified the cover with the title you were looking for. Following this visual trail, you have forced your way through the shop past the thick barricade of Books...
Amusement has always been the great moving force behind culture.
Traveling, you realize that differences are lost: each city takes to resembling all cities, places exchange their form, order, distances, a shapeless dust cloud invades the continents.
It was the love which the hunter has for living things, and which he can only express by aiming his gun at them ...
I had fallen in love. What I mean is: I had begun to recognize, to isolate the signs of one of those from the others, in fact I waited for these signs I had begun to recognize, I sought them, responde...
A classic is a book that has never finished saying what it has to say.
The city, however, does not tell its past, but contains it like the lines of a hand
What Romantic terminology called genius or talent or inspiration is nothing other than finding the right road empirically, following one's nose, taking shortcuts.
It sometimes seems to me that a pestilence has struck the human race in its most distinctive faculty - that is, the use of words. It is a plague afflicting language, revealing itself as a loss of cogn...
…we can not love or think except in fragments of time each of which goes along its own trajectory and immediately disappears.
Memory's images, once they are fixed in words, are erased, Polo said. Perhaps I am afraid of losing Venice all at once, if I speak of it, or perhaps, speaking of other cities, I have already lost it,...
Every morning I tell myself, 'Today has to be productive' - and then something happens that prevents me from writing.
If one wanted to depict the whole thing graphically, every episode, with its climax, would require a three-dimensional, or, rather, no model: every experience is unrepeatable. What makes lovemaking an...
Man is simply the best chance we know of that matter has had of providing itself with information about itself.