In the labyrinth of a difficult text, we find unmarked forks in the path, detours, blind alleys, loops that deliver us back to our point of entry, and finally the monster who whispers an unintelligible truth in our ears.

Freedom is the moment between sleep and waking before selfhood and the world return.

Scepticism is always a back road leading to some credo or other.

Boredom, not the will, is the mother of change. Necessity is the father.

The magic of procedure: do this after that and thus before so; then your wish will be granted.

We often mistake the original part of ourselves for a weakness.

The flesh of past lovers looks both familiar and strange.