Leaving behind the babble of the plaza, I enter the Library. I feel, almost physically, the gravitation of the books, the enveloping serenity of order, time magically dessicated and preserved.

Time forks perpetually toward innumerable futures.

Reality may avoid the obligation to be interesting, but ... hypotheses may not.

In Spanish it is very difficult to make things flow, because words are over-long. But in English, you have light words.

Don't talk unless you can improve the silence.

That is what always happens: we never know whether we are victors or whether we are defeated.

Each thing implies the universe.