What I want is to live of that initial and primordial something that was what made some things reach the point of aspiring to be human.

I do not know much. But there are certain advantages in not knowing. Like virgin territory, the mind is free of preconceptions. Everything I do not know forms the greater part of me: This is my largesse. And with this I understand everything. The things I do not know constitute my truth.

And even sadness was also something for rich people, for people who could afford it, for people who didn't have anything better to do. Sadness was a luxury.

To think is an act. To feel is a fact.

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.

In the world there exists no aesthetic plane, not even the aesthetic plane of goodness.

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?