Commonplaces Are The Tramways Of Intellectual Transportation.

Tell Me To What You Pay Attention And I Will Tell You Who You Are.

Imagine For A Moment That Each One Of Us Takes Only A Little More Care For Each Hour Of His Days, That He Demands In It A Little More Of Elegance And Intensity; Then, Multiplying All These Minute Pressures Toward The Perfecting And Deepening Of Each Life By All The Others, Calculate For Yourselves The Gigantic Enrichment, The Fabulous Ennobling Which This Process Would Create For Human Society.

The Essence Of Man Is, Discontent, Divine Discontent; A Sort Of Love Without A Beloved, The Ache We Feel In A Member We No Longer Have.

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.

Liberalism... Is The Noblest Cry That Has Ever Resounded In This Planet.