Here is Menard's own intimate forest: 'Now I am traversed by bridle paths, under the seal of sun and shade...I live in great density...Shelter lures me. I slump down into the thick foliage...In the forest, I am my entire self. Everything is possible in my heart just as it is in the hiding places in ravines. Thickly wooded distance separates me from moral codes and cities.

Any comparison diminishes the expressive qualities of the terms of the comparison.

Childhood lasts all through life.

The poetic image is a sudden salience on the surface of the psyche

Happy is the man who knows or even the man who remembers those silent vigils where silence itself was the sign of the communion of souls!

Two half philosophers will probably never a whole metaphysician make.

For a knowledge of intimacy, localization in the spaces of our intimacy is more urgent than determination of dates.