All my life, my heart has yearned for a thing I cannot name.

To see, to hear, means nothing. To recognize (or not to recognize) means everything.

No rules exist, and examples are simply life-savers answering the appeals of rules making vain attempts to exist.

I insist on knowing the names, on being interested only in books left ajar, like doors; I will not go looking for keys.

It is hard not to see into the future, faced with today's blind architecture - a thousand times more stupid and more revolting than that of other ages. How bored we shall be inside!

I myself shall continue living in my glass house where you can always see who comes to call, where everything hanging from the the ceiling and on the walls stays where it is as if by magic, where I sleep nights in a glass bed, under glass sheets, where who I am will sooner or later appear etched by a diamond.

It is living and ceasing to live that are imaginary solutions. Existence is elsewhere.