The names of the cerros and the sierras and the deserts exist only on maps. We name them that we do not lose our way. Yet it was because the way was lost to us already that we have made those names. The world cannot be lost. We are the ones. And it is because these names and these coordinates are our own naming that they cannot save us. They cannot find for us the way again.

Between the wish and the thing the world lies waiting.

The passing of armies and the passing of sands in the desert are one.

He can give me what you cannot. Death is not a lover. Oh yes, he is.

Life is a memory, and then it is nothing.

Every man's death is standing in for every other. And since death comes to all there is no way to abate the fear of it except to love the man who stands for us.

Doomed enterprises divide lives forever into the then and now