A Book Is Always An

A Pretext-not A Cause-is Sufficient For Us To Enter The "solitary Situation", The Situation Of The Dreaming Solitude. In This Solitude, Memories Arrange Themselves In Tableaux. Decor Takes Precedence Over Drama. Sad Memories Take On At Least The Peace Of Melancholy.

By Following "the Path Of Reverie"-a Constantly Downhill Path-consciousness Relaxes And Wanders-and Consequently Becomes Clouded. So It Is Never The Right Time, When One Is Dreaming, To "do Phenomenology."

Dreaming By The River, I Dedicated My Imagination To Water, To Clear, Green Water, The Water That Makes The Meadows Green.

One Doesn't Read Poetry While Thinking Of Other Things.

Written Language Must Be Considered As A Particular Psychic Reality. The Book Is Permanent; It Is An Object In Your Field Of Vision. It Speaks To You With A Monotonous Authority Which Even Its Author Would Not Have. You Are Fairly Obliged To Read What Is Written.