Added To The Moral Solitude Of The

Slowly But Surly I Want To Strip Her Of Every Kind Of Happiness As To Make A Saint Of Her.

...the Characters In My Books All Resemble Each Other. They Live, With Minor Variations, The Same Moments, The Same Perils, And When I Speak Of Them, My Language, Which Is Inspired By Them, Repeats The Same Poems In The Same Tone.

Violence Is A Calm That Disturbs You.

To Achieve Harmony In Bad Taste Is The Height Of Elegance.

Erotic Play Discloses A Nameless World Which Is Revealed By The Nocturnal Language Of Lovers. Such Language Is Not Written Down. It Is Whispered Into The Ear At Night In A Hoarse Voice. At Dawn It Is Forgotten.