It Is Only For Those Without Hope

I Am Unpacking My Library. Yes I Am. The Books Are Not Yet On The Shelves, Not Yet Touched By The Mild Boredom Of Order.

Ideas Are To Objects As Constellations Are To Stars [translated From Trauerspiel, 1928].

Any Order Is A Balancing Act Of Extreme Precariousness.

How Many Cities Have Revealed Themselves To Me In The Marches I Undertook In The Pursuit Of Books!

The Idea That Happiness Could Have A Share In Beauty Would Be Too Much Of A Good Thing.