Many people have thought of me as a thinker, as a philosopher, or even as a mystic. Well the truth is that though I have found reality perplexing enough - in fact, I find it gets more perplexing all the time - I never think of myself as a thinker.

No one is anyone, one single immortal man is all men. Like Cornelius Agrippa, I am god, I am hero, I am philosopher, I am demon and I am world, which is a tedious way of saying that I do not exist.

I have no way of knowing whether the events that I am about to narrate are effects or causes.

I saw a sunset in Queretaro that seemed to reflect the color of a rose in Bengal.

You may win your heart's desire, but in the end you're cheated of it by death.

That one individual should awaken in another memories that belong to still a third is an obvious paradox.

When I wake up, I wake to something worse. It’s the astonishment of being myself