The Metaphor Is Probably The

The Type Of Human Being We Prefer Reveals The Contours Of Our Heart.

By Speaking, By Thinking, We Undertake To Clarify Things, And That Forces Us To Exacerbate Them, Dislocate Them, Schematize Them. Every Concept Is In Itself An Exaggeration.

We Fall In Love When Our Imagination Projects Nonexistent Perfection Upon Another Person. One Day, The Fantasy Evaporates And With It, Love Dies.

For The Person For Whom Small Things Do Not Exist, The Great Is Not Great.

The Struggle With The Past Is Not A Hand-to-hand Fight. The Future Overcomes It By Swallowing It. If It Leaves Anything Outside It Is Lost.