The City Of Cats And The City

Memory's Images, Once They Are Fixed In Words, Are Erased," Polo Said. "perhaps I Am Afraid Of Losing Venice All At Once, If I Speak Of It, Or Perhaps, Speaking Of Other Cities, I Have Already Lost It, Little By Little.

Work Stops At Sunset. Darkness Falls Over The Building Site. The Sky Is Filled With Stars. "there Is The Blueprint," They Say.

Each New Clarice, Compact As A Living Body With Its Smells And Its Breath, Shows Off, Like A Gem, What Remains Of The Ancient Clarices, Fragmentary And Dead.

A Human Being Becomes Human Not Through The Casual Convergence Of Certain Biological Conditions, But Through An Act Of Will And Love On The Part Of Other People.

There Is No Language Without Deceit.