Perhaps I am doomed to retrace my steps under the illusion that I am exploring, doomed to try and learn what I should simply recognize, learning a mere fraction of what I have forgotten.
Everything tends to make us believe that there exists a certain point of the mind at which life and death, the real and the imagined, past and future, the communicable and the incommunicable, high and low, cease to be perceived as contradictions.
If I place love above everything, it is because for me it is the most desperate, the most despairing state of affairs imaginable.
To reduce the imagination to a state of slavery -even though it would mean the elimination of what is commonly called happiness -is to betray all sense of absolute justice within oneself. Imagination alone offers me some intimation of what can be.
No rules exist, and examples are simply life-savers answering the appeals of rules making vain attempts to exist.
Words make love with one another.
I have always been amazed at the way an ordinary observer lends so much more credence and attaches so much more importance to waking events than to those occurring in dreams... Man... is above all the plaything of his memory.
It is living and ceasing to live that are imaginary solutions. Existence is elsewhere.
Of all those arts in which the wise excel, Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well.
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