...life Is Nothing But Trading Smells.

You Are About To Begin Reading Italo Calvino's New Novel, If On A Winter's Night A Traveler. Relax. Concentrate. Dispel Every Other Thought. Let The World Around You Fade. Best To Close The Door; The Tv Is Always On In The Next Room. Tell The Others Right Away, "no, I Don't Want To Watch Tv!" Raise Your Voice -- They Won't Hear You Otherwise -- "i'm Reading! I Don't Want To Be Disturbed!" Maybe They Haven't Heard You, With All That Racket; Speak Louder, Yell: "i'm Beginning To Read Italo Calvino's New Novel!" Or If You Prefer, Don't Say Anything: Just Hope They'll Leave You Alone.

Writing Always Means Hiding Something In Such A Way That It Then Is Discovered.

The City Of Cats And The City Of Men Exist One Inside The Other, But They Are Not The Same City.

The Universe Is The Mirror In Which We Can Contemplate Only What We Have Learned To Know In Ourselves

The Ultimate Meaning To Which All Stories Refer Has Two Faces: The Continuity Of Life, The Inevitability Of Death.