I Try To Busy Myself Elsewhere, To

In Front Of The Photograph Of My Mother As A Child, I Tell Myself: She Is Going To Die: I Shudder, Like Winnicott's Psychotic Patient, Over A Catastrophe Which Has Already Occurred. Whether Or Not The Subject Is Already Dead, Every Photograph Is This Catastrophe.

Literature Is Without Proofs. By Which It Must Be Understood That It Cannot Prove, Not Only What It Says, But Even That It Is Worth The Trouble Of Saying It.

If I Had To Create A God, I Would Lend Him A “slow Understanding”: A Kind Of Drip-by-drip Understanding Of Problems. People Who Understand Quickly Frighten Me.

Are Not Couturiers The Poets Who, From Year To Year, From Strophe To Strophe, Write The Anthem Of The Feminine Body?

The Necessary Condition For An Image Is Sight.