Do Not Think That One Has To

If Repression Has Indeed Been The Fundamental Link Between Power, Knowledge, And Sexuality Since The Classical Age, It Stands To Reason That We Will Not Be Able To Free Ourselves From It Except At A Considerable Cost.

Confined On The Ship, From Which There Is No Escape, The Madman Is Delivered To The River With Its Thousand Arms, The Sea With Its Thousand Roads, To That Great Uncertainty External To Everything. He Is A Prisoner In The Midst Of What Is The Freest, The Openest Of Routes: Bound Fast At The Infinite Crossroads. He Is The Passenger Par Excellence: That Is, The Prisoner Of The Passage. And The Land He Will Come To Is Unknown—as Is, Once He Disembarks, The Land From Which He Comes. He Has His Truth And His Homeland Only In That Fruitless Expanse Between Two Countries That Cannot Belong To Him.

The Best Moment Of Love Is When The Lover Leaves In The Taxi.

What Strikes Me Is The Fact That In Our Society, Art Has Become Something Which Is Only Related To Objects, And Not To Individuals, Or To Life.

In The Middle Ages And The Renaissance, Man's Dispute With Madness Was Dramatic Debate In Which He Confronted The Secret Powers Of The World; The Experience Of Madness Was Clouded By Images Of The Fall And The Will Of God, Of The Beast And The Metamorphosis, And Of All The Marvelous Secrets Of Knowledge