What goes by the name of love is banishment, with now and then a postcard from the homeland, such is my considered opinion, this evening.
Against the charitable gesture there is no defence.
But I know what darkness is, it accumulates, thickens, then suddenly bursts and drowns everything.
Yes, light, there is no other word for it.
The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.
The pendulum oscillates between these two terms: Suffering-that opens a window on the real and is the main condition of the artistic experience, and Boredom ... that must be considered as the most tolerable because the most durable of human evils.