I enjoy wording. Words for me are tangible bodies, visible sirens, incarnate sensualities.

I never meant to be but a dreamer.

Look, there's no metaphysics on earth but chocolates.

In this metallic age of barbarians, only a relentless cultivation of our ability to dream, to analyse and to captivate can prevent our personality from degenerating into nothing or else into a personality like all the rest.

FIRST WATCHER Why do people die? SECOND WATCHER Perhaps because they don't dream enough.

That is my morality or my metaphysics or me myself: a passer-by in everything, even my own soul. I belong to nothing, I desire nothing, I am nothing except an abstract centre of impersonal sensations, a sentient mirror fallen from the wall but still turned to reflect the diversity of the world.

It's in an inland sea that the river of my life ended.