In homosexual love the passion is homosexuality itself. What a homosexual loves, as if it were his lover, his country, his art, his land, is homosexuality.
Marguerite DurasI've forgotten the words with which to tell you. I knew them once, but I've forgotten them, and now I'm talking to you without them.
Marguerite DurasItโs not that you have to achieve anything, itโs that you have to get away from where you are.
Marguerite DurasI meet you. I remember you. Who are you? Youโre destroying me. Youโre good for me. How could I know this city was tailor-made for love? How could I know you fit my body like a glove? I like you. How unlikely. I like you. How slow all of a sudden. How sweet. You cannot know. Youโre destroying me. Youโre good for me. Youโre destroying me. Youโre good for me. I have time. Please, devour me. Deform me to the point of ugliness. Why not you? Why not you in this city and in this night, so like other cities and other nights you can hardly tell the difference? I beg of you.
Marguerite Duras