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.

Unlike the novel, a short story may be, for all purposes, essential.

A system is nothing more than the subordination of all aspects of the universe to any one of such aspects.

I suppose identity depends on memory. And if my memory is blotted out, then I wonder if I exist - I mean, if I am the same person. Of course, I don't have to solve that problem. It's up to God, if any.

I don't think there's any essential difference, at least for me, between writing poetry and writing prose.

There is nothing in the world that is not mysterious, but the mystery is more evident in certain things than in others: in the sea, in the eyes of the elders, in the color yellow, and in music.

Art is endless like a river flowing, passing, yet remaining.