Why Do You Keep Maintaining Your Ideas

But I Must Finally Realize That I Am Subject To These Sudden Transformations. The Thing Is That I Rarely Think; A Crowd Of Small Metamorphoses Accumulate In Me Without My Noticing It, And Then, One Fine Day, A Veritable Revolution Takes Place.

I Do Not Think Therefore I Am A Moustache

That’s What Existence Means: Draining One’s Own Self Dry Without The Sense Of Thirst.

I Am Going To Outlive Myself. Eat, Sleep, Sleep, Eat. Exist Slowly, Softly, Like These Trees, Like A Puddle Of Water, Like The Red Bench In The Streetcar.

That Is Exactly The Writer's Problem. What Does Literature Stand For In A Hungry World?