I have always come to life after coming to books.

For myth is at the beginning of literature, and also at its end.

We are our memory, we are that chimerical museum of shifting shapes, that pile of broken mirrors.

Not a single star will be left in the night. The night will not be left. I will die and, with me, the weight of the intolerable universe. I shall erase the pyramids, the medallions, the continents and faces. I shall erase the accumulated past. I shall make dust of history, dust of dust. Now I am looking on the final sunset. I am hearing the last bird. I bequeath nothingness to no one.

Reality favors symmetry.

The original is unfaithful to the translation.

I have always come to life after coming to books.