My advanced age has taught me the resignation of being Borges.

The European and the North American consider that a book that has been awarded any kind of prize must be good; the Argentine allows for the possibility that the book might not be bad, despite the prize.

Like all those possessing a library, Aurelian was aware that he was guilty of not knowing his in its entirety.

In all fiction, when a man is faced with alternatives he chooses one at the expense of others.

We have shared out, like thieves, the amazing treasures of days and nights.

When writers die they become books, which is, after all, not too bad an incarnation.

I foresee that man will resign himself each day to new abominations, and soon that only bandits and soldiers will be left...