Death is another bar which lies several steps below the normal world. I’m at its threshold, but not yet in it. Its doorway is doorless.
She wore red lipstick the next time that I saw her, though her hair was more voluminous with dirt than before. Owing, like everything else about these girls, to the fertility of rats.
There must be a secret hidden in this book or else you wouldn’t bother to read it
If you read every poem in every anthology of Greek poetry, you wouldn’t read one poem in which a character of the woman who’s loved is described or matters.
Literature is that which denounces and slashes apart the repressing machine at the level of the signified.
Murder is a dream because lack is the center of both.
But now that she had achieved knighthood, and thought and acted as she wanted and decided, for one has to act in this way in order to save this world, she neither noticed nor cared that all the people around her thought she was insane.
Life doesn’t exist inside language: too bad for me.
What other knowledge will my solitude and muteness bring? What other worlds?
Every one-night-stand or man in a one-night-stand is like every other one-night-stand or man in a one-night-stand because the sex in a one-night-stand is without time and only time allows value.
I find waiting unbearable because it makes me passive and negates me. I hate being nothing.
Meanwhile the temperature is getting hotter and hotter so no one can think clearly. No one perceives. No one cares. Insane madness come out like life is a terrific party.
There are times when the law jeopardizes those who obey it.
I want to get out of here means I want to be innocent.