Living substance conquers the frenzy of destruction only in the ecstasy of procreation.

Work on good prose has three steps: a musical stage when it is composed, an architectonic one when it is built, and a textile one when it is woven.

In the fields with which we are concerned, knowledge comes only in flashes. The text is the thunder rolling long afterward.

Genuine polemics approach a book as lovingly as a cannibal spices a baby.

Let no thought pass incognito, and keep your notebook as strictly as the authorities keep their register of aliens.

As Hegel put it, only when it is dark does the owl of Minerva begin its flight. Only in extinction is the collector comprehend.

Our image of happiness is indissolubly bound up with the image of the past.