Eroticism Is Assenting To Life Even In

I Think That Knowledge Enslaves Us, That At The Base Of All Knowledge There Is A Servility, The Acceptation Of A Way Of Life Wherein Each Moment Has Meaning Only In Relation To Another Or Others That Will Follow It.

It Seems Impossible, In Fact, To Judge The Eye Using Any Word Other Than Seductive, Since Nothing Is More Attractive In The Bodies Of Animals And Men. But Extreme Seductiveness Is Probably At The Boundary Of Horror.

Life Is Whole Only When It Isn't Subordinate To A Specific Object That Exceeds It. In This Way, The Essence Of Entirety Is Freedom.

I Remain In Intolerable Non-knowledge, Which Has No Other Way Out Than Ecstasy Itself.

By Inner Experience I Understand That Which One Usually Calls Mystical Experience: The States Of Ecstasy, Of Rapture, At Least Of Meditated Emotion. But I Am Thinking Less Of Confessional Experience, To Which One Has Had To Adhere Up To Now, That Of An Experience Laid Bare, Free Of Ties, Even Of An Origin, Of Any Confession Whatever. This Is Why I Don't Like The Word Mystical.