Myth is neither a lie nor a confession: it is an inflexion. >>
Literature is without proofs. By which it must be understood that it c >>
To hide a passion totally (or even to hide, more simply, its excess) i >>
Love is what we are born with. Fear is what we learn. The spiritual jo >>
For love... has two faces; one white, the other black; two bodies; one >>
What I needed most was to love and to be loved, eager to be caught. Ha >>
To try to write love is to confront the muck of language: that region of hysteria where language is both too much and too little, excessive and impoverished.