Another school declares that all time has already transpired and that our life is only the crepuscular and no doubt falsified and mutilated memory or reflection of an irrecoverable process.

Time is the substance from which I am made. Time is a river which carries me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger that devours me, but I am the tiger; it is a fire that consumes me, but I am the fire.

Reading is an activity subsequent to writing: more resigned, more civil, more intellectual.

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.

What I'm really concerned about is reaching one person. And that person may be myself for all I know.

As the end approaches, there are no longer any images from memory - there are only words.

Reality is not always probable, or likely.