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

My father gave me free run of his library. When I think of my boyhood, I think in terms of the books I read.

The central problem of novel-writing is causality.

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.

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?

I live in a grey world, rather like the silver screen world. But yellow stands out.

It means much to have loved, to have been happy, to have laid my hand on the living Garden, even for a day.