The Art Of Storytelling Is

It Is Only For Those Without Hope That Hope Is Given.

What Has Been Forgotten Is Never Something Purely Individual. Everything Forgotten Mingles With What Has Been Forgotten Of The Prehistoric World, Forms Countless, Uncertain, Changing Compounds, Yielding A Constant Flow Of New, Strange Products.

Not To Find One's Way Around A City Does Not Mean Much. But To Lose One's Way In A City, As One Loses One's Way In A Forest, Requires Some Schooling. Street Names Must Speak To The Urban Wanderer Like The Snapping Of Dry Twigs, And Little Streets In The Heart Of The City Must Reflect The Times Of Day, For Him, As Clearly As A Mountain Valley. This Art I Acquired Rather Late In Life; It Fulfilled A Dream, Of Which The First Traces Were Labyrinths On The Blotting Papers In My School Notebooks.

The Illiterate Of The Future Will Not Be The Man Who Cannot Read The Alphabet, But The One Who Cannot Take A Photograph.

Gifts Must Affect The Receiver To The Point Of Shock.