To Eat Is To Appropriate By Destruction.

In The Nineteenth Century One Had To Give All Sorts Of Guarantees And Lead An Exemplary Life In Order To Cleanse Oneself In The Eyes Of The Bourgeois Of The Sin Of Writing, For Literature Is, In Essence, Heresy. The Situation Has Not Changed Except That It Is Now The Communists, That Is, The Qualified Representatives Of The Proletariat, Who As A Matter Of Principle Regard The Writer As Suspect.

It Is Enough That One Man Hate Another For Hate To Gain, Little By Little, All Mankind.

The Poor Don't Know That Their Function In Life Is To Exercise Our Generosity.

I Am Myself And I Am Here.

Absurd, Irreducible; Nothing--not Even A Profound And Secret Delirium Of Nature--could Explain [a Tree Root].