In the wake of great silences, the first duty is to reconstruct the very architecture of thought. This is no mere child's play of...

A people is not merely a clutter of souls occupying a patch of earth. It is a shared dream, a story told in the...

In a world bereft of its grand libraries and printing presses, the human tongue becomes the living archive. Every man carries his own epic...

A man's life is a river of consciousness, fed by the tributaries of those who came before. To lose that history is to become...

In the great shipwreck of the world, a man must cling to what floats. While others busy themselves with brick and mortar, do not...

The world, even in its ruin, is a book of signs. Most men blunder through it, their minds a clatter of anxieties and plans,...

In the labyrinth of a fallen world, the thread of memory is all that connects us to what we were. Words on a page...

A civilization, you see, is not merely its catalogue of kings and battles; it is a riverrun of consciousness, a tapestry woven from the...

The world without may crumble, but the world within roars on, a veritable Dublin of crisscrossing thoughts, half-recalled melodies, and sudden, piercing anxieties. This...