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It is difficult to critique the Waves; it is a text that is felt but only in an absolute way—invading the flow of the mind, emotions, and the deep course of existence. I read it a long time ago. It is still in my memory; it inhabits and enriches me. I resonate with the essence of what is delivered and discovered a form of perfection in literature. The state has liberated but to better vibrate and diffuse, with a richness that many current novels, dull and cold by dint of wanting to be stripped of constraints, have never been able to match. It is a dream, but the time of this dream is the whole essence of life that passes.