The richest source of creation is feeling, followed by a vision of its meaning.

To change skins, evolve into new cycles, I feel one has to learn to discard. If one changes internally one should not continue to live with the same objects. They reflect one's mind and psyche of yesterday. I throw away what has no dynamic, living use.

He has, like me, a sense of smell. I let him inhale me, then I slip away.

We love best those who are, or act for us, a self we do not wish to be or act out.

I want to love you wildly. I don’t want words, but inarticulate cries, meaningless, from the bottom of my most primitive being, that flow from my belly like honey. A piercing joy, that leaves me empty, conquered, silenced.

While analyzing so many people I realized the constant need of a mother, or a father, or a god (the same thing) is really immaturity. It is a childish need, a human need, but so universal that I can see how it gave birth to all religions.

I am like a snake who has already bitten. I retreat from a direct battle while knowing the slow effect of the poison.