Our lives don't really belong to us, you see -- they belong to the world, and in spite of our efforts to make sense of it, the world is a place beyond our understanding.

The things we remember are often things that have great emotional importance, and so they have a lasting effect.

I haven't done any translating for decades now. It's something I did when I was young.

In the same way, the world is not the sum of all the things that are in it. It is the infinitely complex network of connections among them. As in the meanings of words, things take on meaning only in relationship to each other.

To feel estranged from language is to lose your own body.

Every man is the author of his own life.

Holes in the memory. You grab on to some things, others have completely disappeared.