To Eat Steak Rare . . .

What I Claim Is To Live To The Full The Contradiction Of My Time, Which May Well Make Sarcasm The Condition Of Truth.

To Hide A Passion Totally (or Even To Hide, More Simply, Its Excess) Is Inconceivable: Not Because The Human Subject Is Too Weak, But Because Passion Is In Essence Made To Be Seen: The Hiding Must Be Seen: I Want You To Know That I Am Hiding Something From You, That Is The Active Paradox I Must Resolve: At One And The Same Time It Must Be Known And Not Known: I Want You To Know That I Don't Want To Show My Feelings: That Is The Message I Address To The Other.

I Cannot Classify The Other, For The Other Is, Precisely, Unique, The Singular Image Which Has Miraculously Come To Correspond To The Speciality Of My Desire. The Other Is The Figure Of My Truth, And Cannot Be Imprisoned In Any Stereotype (which Is The Truth Of Others).

Those Who Fail To Reread Are Obliged To Read The Same Story Everywhere.

He Who Reads A Story Only Once Is Condemned To Read The Same Story His Whole Life.