No lover, if he be of good faith, and sincere, will deny he would prefer to see his mistress dead than unfaithful. — Donatien Alphonse François / Marquis de Sade
Love is not a state, a feeling, a disposition, but an exchange, uneven, fraught with history, with ghosts, with longings that are more or less legible to those who try to see one another with their own faulty vision. — Judith Butlera
Night is longing, longing, longing, beyond all endurance. — Henry Miller, Sexus. (The Rosy Crucifixion #1). Grove Press January 12, 1994) Originally published 1949.
What I want is to open up. I want to know what’s inside me. I want everybody to open up. I’m like an imbecile with a can opener in his hand, wondering where to begin– to open up the earth. I know that underneath the mess everything is marvelous. I’m sure of it. — Henry… Continue reading Henry Miller
And when she’s alone again, as truly alone in the world as she’s always felt herself to be, she looks at herself in a bamboo-framed mirror. Beautiful face, aglow with the taste of carnal pleasure, disdainful and avid … and above all an indefinable look in which can be sensed unspecified danger, sensuality triumphant and… Continue reading Louis Aragon
When life descends into the pit I must become my own candle willingly burning myself to light up the darkness around me. — Alice Walker, By the Light of my Father’s Smile. (Random House; 1st edition September 14, 1998)
I equate love (bodies touching indecently) to the limitlessness of being – to nausea, to the sun, and to death. —Georges Bataille, from “La Scissiparié,” Oeuvres Completes III. (Editions Flammarion July 27, 1984) Originally published in Les Cahiers de la Pléiade, Spring 1949.