The Real Magic Wand Is The Child's

Life Is A Series Of Collisions With The Future; It Is Not The Sum Of What We Have Been, But What We Yearn To Be.

Man Adapts Himself To Everything, To The Best And The Worst.

The Metaphor Is Perhaps One Of Man's Most Fruitful Potentialities. Its Efficacy Verges On Magic, And It Seems A Tool For Creation Which God Forgot Inside One Of His Creatures When He Made Him. All Our Faculties Keep Us Within The Realm Of The Real, Of What Is Already There. The Most We Can Do Is To Combine Things Or Break Them Up. The Metaphor Alone Furnishes An Escape; Between The Real Things, It Lets Emerge Imaginary Reefs, A Crop Of Floating Islands.

He Who Wishes To Teach Us A Truth Should Not Tell It To Us, But Simply Suggest It With A Brief Gesture, A Gesture Which Starts An Ideal Trajectory In The Air Along Which We Glide Until We Find Ourselves At The Feet Of The New Truth.

The Cynic, A Parasite Of Civilization, Lives By Denying It, For The Very Reason That He Is Convinced That It Will Not Fail.