An object dies when the gaze that lights on it has disappeared.

Rarely has reality needed so much to be imagined.

What I'm passionate about is History, and politics interest me only insofar as it is the cross-section of History in the present.

I’ve been round the world several times and now only banality still interests me.

Who said that time heals all wounds? It would be better to say that time heals everything - except wounds. With time, the hurt of separation loses its real limits. With time, the desired body will soon disappear, and if the desiring body has already ceased to exist for the other, then what remains is a wound, disembodied.

Nothing sorts out memories from ordinary moments. It is only later that they claim remembrance, when they show their scars.

When men die, they enter history. When statues die, they enter art. This botany of death is what we call culture.