But A Sort Of Rupture-in Anguish-leaves Us

Inner Experience ... Is Not Easily Accessible And, Viewed From The Outside By Intelligence, It Would Even Be Necessary To See In It A Sum Of Distinct Operations, Some Intellectual, Others Aesthetic, Yet Others Moral. ... It Is Only From Within, Lived To The Point Of Terror, That It Appears To Unify That Which Discursive Thought Must Separate.

I Don't Want Your Love Unless You Know I Am Repulsive,and Love Me Even As You Know It.

Existence As Entirety Remains Beyond Any One Meaning And It Is The Conscious Presence Of Humanness In The World Inasmuch As This Is Nonmeaning, Having Nothing To Do Other Than Be What It Is, No Longer Able To Go Beyond Itself Or Give Itself Some Kind Of Meaning Through Action.

Eroticism, It May Be Said, Is Assenting To Life Up To The Point Of Death

The Power Of Death Signifies That This Real World Can Only Have A Neutral Image Of Life, That Life's Intimacy Does Not Reveal It's Dazzling Consumption Until The Moment It Gives Out.