Reality prior to my language exists as an unthinkable thought. . . . life precedes love, bodily matter precedes the body, and one day in its turn language shall have preceded possession of silence.

I write to save someone's life, probably my own

Her curiosity instructed her more than the answers she was given.

Whether she won or lost, she would continue to wrestle with life. It would not be with her own life alone but with all of life. Something had finally been released within her. And there it was, the sea.

How was she to tie herself to a man without permitting him to imprison her? And was there some means of acquiring things without those things possessing her?

So long as I have questions to which there are no answers, I shall go on writing.

For one has the right to shout. So, I am shouting.