Fame is a form, perhaps the worst form, of incomprehension.

Reality is partial to symmetry and slight anachronisms

When you come right down to it, opinions are the most superficial things about anyone

I am attracted to fantastic writing, and fantastic reading, of course. But I think things that we call fantastic may be real, in the sense of being real symbols.

All theories are legitimate, no matter. What matters is what you do with them.

Art always opts for the individual, the concrete; art is not Platonic.

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?