“ literature coming from the cold corpse of a whore is the last thing to be served in bed. ”
What's a fuck when what I want is love?
~ Henry Miller
Let me be, was all I wanted. Be what I am, no matter how I am.
Everyone has his own reality in which, if one is not too cautious, timid or frightened, one swims. This is the only reality there is.
I had a microscopic eye for the blemish, for the grain of ugliness which to me constituted the sole beauty of the object.
