every choice has its obverse, that is to say a renunciation, and so there is no difference between the act of choosing and the act of renouncing

What Romantic terminology called genius or talent or inspiration is nothing other than finding the right road empirically, following one's nose, taking shortcuts.

Cities, like dreams, are made of desires and fears, even if the thread of their discourse is secret, their rules are absurd, their perspectives deceitful, and everything conceals something else.

Memory is redundant: it repeats signs so that the city can begin to exist.

Everything has already begun before, the first line of the first page of every novel refers to something that has already happened outside the book.

I will start out this evening with an assertion: fantasy is a place where it rains.

We could say, then, that man is an instrument the world employs to renew its own image constantly.