It is only for those without hope that hope is given.
All the decisive blows are struck left-handed.
All efforts to render politics aesthetic culminate in one thing: war.
Every passion borders on the chaotic, but the collector's passion borders on the chaos of memories.
Language has unmistakably made plain that memory is not an instrument for exploring the past but its theater. It is the medium of past experience, just as the earth is the medium in which dead cities lie buried.
Those who do not learn how to decipher photographs will be the illiterate of the future.