We Could Say, Then, That

You're The Sort Of Person Who, On Principle, No Longer Expects Anything Of Anything. There Are Plenty, Younger Than You Or Less Young, Who Live In The Expectation Of Extraordinary Experiences: From Books, From People, From Journeys, From Events, From What Tomorrow Has In Store. But Not You. You Know That The Best You Can Expect Is To Avoid The Worst.

Without Translation, I Would Be Limited To The Borders Of My Own Country. The Translator Is My Most Important Ally. He Introduces Me To The World.

Memory Is Redundant: It Repeats Signs So That The City Can Begin To Exist.

You Are About To Begin Reading Italo Calvino's New Novel, If On A Winter's Night A Traveler.

It Was The Hour In Which Objects Lose The Consistency Of Shadow That Accompanies Them During The Night And Gradually Reacquire Colors, But Seem To Cross Meanwhile An Uncertain Limbo, Faintly Touched, Just Breathed On By Light; The Hour In Which One Is Least Certain Of The World's Existence.