Eroticism, it may be said, is assenting to life up to the point of death

When my face is flushed with blood, it becomes red and obscene. It betrays at the same time, through morbid reflexes, a bloody erection and a demanding thirst for indecency and criminal debauchery.

Eroticism is assenting to life even in death.

The sacred demands the violation of what is normally the object of terrified respect.

Pleasure only starts once the worm has got into the fruit; to become delightful, happiness must be tainted with poison.

The chaos of the mind cannot constitute a reply to the providence of the universe. All it can be is an awakening in the night, where all that can be heard is anguished poetry let loose.

Obscenity is our name for the uneasiness which upsets the physical state associated with self-possession, with the possession of a recognized and stable individuality.