Marx says that revolutions are the locomotives of world history. But the situation may be quite different. Perhaps revolutions are not the train ride, but the human race grabbing for the emergency brake.

Boredom is the dream bird that hatches the egg of experience. A rustling in the leaves drives him away.

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

Every passion borders on the chaotic, but the collector's passion borders on the chaos of memories.

The work of memory collapses time.

In every case the storyteller is a man who has counsel for his readers.

The illiterate of the future will not be the man who cannot read the alphabet, but the one who cannot take a photograph.