Tout Refus Du Langage Est Une Mort.

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.

Pleasure Is Continually Disappointed, Reduced, Deflated, In Favor Of Strong, Noble Values: Truth, Death, Progress, Struggle, Joy, Etc. Its Victorious Rival Is Desire: We Are Always Being Told About Desire, Never About Pleasure.

I Want To Be Both Pathetic And Admirable, I Want To Be At The Same Time A Child And An Adult. Thereby I Gamble, I Take A Risk: For It Is Always Possible That The Other Will Simply Ask No Question Whatever About These Unaccustomed Glasses; That The Other Will See, In The Fact, No Sign.

The Photographic Image... Is A Message Without A Code.

L'amoureux Qui N'oublie Pas Quelquefois Meurt Par Exce' S, Fatigue Et Tension De Me Moire (tel Werther). The Lover Who Does Not Forget Sometimes Dies From Excess, Fatigue, And The Strain Of Memory (like Werther).