There is no intellectual exercise which is not ultimately useless.

Time is the substance of which we are made

I gazed at every mirror on the planet, not one gave back my reflection.

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

The word happiness exists in every language; it is plausible the thing itself exists.

It is worth remembering that every writer begins with a naively physical notion of what art is. A book for him or her is not an expression or a series of expressions, but literally a volume, a prism with six rectangular sides made of thin sheets of papers which should include a cover, an inside cover, an epigraph in italics, a preface, nine or ten parts with some verses at the beginning, a table of contents, an ex libris with an hourglass and a Latin phrase, a brief list of errata, some blank pages, a colophon and a publication notice: objects that are known to constitute the art of writing.

All literature, is, finally autobiographical.