The Construction Of Life Is

Less And Less Frequently Do We Encounter People With The Ability To Tell A Tale Properly. More And More Often There Is Embarrassment All Around When The Wish To Hear A Story Is Expressed. It Is As If Something That Seemed Inalienable To Us, The Securest Among Our Possessions, Were Taken From Us: The Ability To Exchange Our Experiences...experience Has Fallen In Value. And It Looks As If It Is Continuing To Fall Into Bottomlessness.

You Could Tell A Lot About A Man By The Books He Keeps - His Tastes, His Interest, His Habits.

To A Book Collector, You See, The True Freedom Of All Books Is Somewhere On His Shelves.

Reminiscences, Even Extensive Ones, Do Not Always Amount To An Autobiography. For Autobiography Has To Do With Time, With Sequence And What Makes Up The Continuous Flow Of Life. Here, I Am Talking Of A Space, Of Moments And Discontinuities. For Even If Months And Years Appear Here, It Is In The Form They Have At The Moment Of Commemoration.

To Articulate The Past Historically Does Not Mean To Recognize It "the Way It Really Was"...it Means To Seize Hold Of A Memory As It Flashes Up At A Moment Of Danger.