Ah, ladies and gentlemen, a man lives a sad life when he cannot take anything or anyone seriously.

No act is of itself either good or bad. Only its place in the order of things makes it good or bad.

Culture is perishing in overproduction, in an avalanche of words, in the madness of quantity.

Let us consider the critic, therefore, as a discoverer of discoveries.

The serial number of a human specimen is the face, that accidental and unrepeatable combination of features. It reflects neither character nor soul, nor what we call the self. The face is only the serial number of a specimen

To ensure that the self doesn't shrink, to see that it holds on to its volume, memories have to be watered like potted flowers, and the watering calls for regular contact with the witnesses of the past, that is to say, with friends.

The reign of imagagology begins where history ends.