What will die with me the day I die? What pathetic or frail image will be lost to the world? The voice of Macedonio Fernandez, the image of a bay horse in a vacant lot on the corner of Sarrano and Charcas, a bar of sulfur in the drawer of a mahogany desk?

The heresies we should fear are those which can be confused with orthodoxy.

All that happens to us, including our humiliations, our misfortunes, our embarrassments, all is given to us as raw material, as clay, so that we may shape our art.

Doubt is one of the names of intelligence.

Reality may avoid the obligation to be interesting, but ... hypotheses may not.

Art is endless like a river flowing, passing, yet remaining.

If space is infinite, we may be at any point in space. If time is infinite, we may be at any point in time.