A writer always begins by being too complicated—he’s playing at several games at once.
It also occurred to him that throughout history, humankind has told two stories: the story of a lost ship sailing the Mediterranean seas in quest of a beloved isle, and the story of a god...
As Borges himself showed us in so many stories — “The Aleph”, “The Garden of Forking Paths”, “The Gift”, “Blue Tigers”, “Shakespeare’s Memory” — a blessing is always a mixed blessing.As Borges noted sadly, he...
La duda es uno de los nombres de la inteligencia.
Recordando y OlvidandoNo te has olvidado de recordar;Te has acordado de olvidar.Pero la gente puede olvidarse de olvidar. Eso es tan importante como acordarse de recordar y, en general, más práctico.
tout aboutit en un livre,” everything ends up in a book. The Greeks speak of generations that will sing; Mallarmé speaks of an object, of a thing among things, a book. But the idea is...
Borges is particularly stimulating to a man who works in the cinema, because the unusual thing about his writing is that it is like a dream, extraordinarily farsighted in calling up from the unconscious complete...
I never reread what I’ve written. I’m far too afraid to feel ashamed of what I’ve done.
Art always opts for the individual, the concrete; art is not Platonic.
El arte de la noche ha invadido el arte de la vida.
The three of them knew it. She was Kafka’s mistress. Kafka had dreamt her. The three of them knew it. He was Kafka’s friend. Kafka had dreamt him. The three of them knew it. The...
As Borges has taught us, all the books in the library are contemporary. Great poems are like granaries: they are always ready to enlarge their store.
The story of two dreams is a coincidence, a line drawn by chance, like the shapes of lions or horses that are sometimes formed by clouds.
The metaphysicians of Tlön are not looking for truth, nor even for an approximation of it; they are after a kind of amazement.
Como todos los hombres de la Biblioteca, he viajado en mi juventud; he peregrinado en busca de un libro, acaso del catálogo de catálogos; ahora que mis ojos casi no pueden descifrar lo que escribo,...
I owe my first inkling of the problem of infinity to a large biscuit tin that was a source of vertiginous mystery during my childhood.
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