I am on the hunt for constructions. I come into a room and find them whitely merging in a corner.

Don Quixote's misfortune is not his imagination, but Sancho Panza.

Please — consider me a dream.

In Paradise, as always: that which causes the sin and that which recognizes it for what it is are one. The clear conscience is Evil, which is so entirely victorious that it does not any longer consider the leap from left to right necessary.

Knowledge we have. Anyone who strives for it with particular intensity is suspect of striving against it.

I carry the bars within me.

The decisive moment in human evolution is perpetual. That is why the revolutionary spiritual movements that declare all former things worthless are in the right, for nothing has yet happened.