Mankind has got to get back to the rhythm of the cosmos.

I'd be ashamed to see a woman walking around with my name-label on her, address and railway station, like a wardrobe trunk.

Our civilisation cannot afford to let the censor-moron loose. The censor-moron does not really hate anything but the living and growing human consciousness.

For {she} had adopted the standard of the young: what there was in the moment was everything. And moments followed one another without necessarily belonging to one another.

Night, in which everything was lost, went reaching out, beyond stars and sun. Stars and sun, a few bright grains, went spiraling round for terror, and holding each other in embrace, there in a darkness that outpassed them all, and left them tiny and daunted. So much, and himself, infinitesimal, at the core of nothingness, and yet not nothing.

For my part, I prefer my heart to be broken. It is so lovely, dawn-kaleidoscopic within the crack.

Without secrecy there would be no pornography. But secrecy and modesty are two utterly different things.