I have always had school sickness, as others have seasickness. I cried when it was time to go back to school long after I was old enough to be ashamed of such behavior.

I was wondering myself where I am going. So I would answer you by saying, first, that I am trying, precisely, to put myself at a point so that I do not know any longer where I am going.

Such a caring for death, an awakening that keeps vigil over death, a conscience that looks death in the face, is another name for freedom.

I do everything I think possible or acceptable to escape from this trap.

I say things that contradict each other, that are in real tension with each other, that compose me, that make me live, and that will make me die.

I never give in to the temptation to be difficult just for the sake of being difficult. That would be too ridiculous.

I speak only one language, and it is not my own.