...beauty Is The Projection Of Ugliness And

I Wanted To Swallow Myself By Opening My Mouth Very Wide And Turning It Over My Head So That It Would Take In My Whole Body, And Then The Universe, Until All That Would Remain Of Me Would Be A Ball Of Eaten Thing Which Little By Little Would Be Annihilated: That Is How I See The End Of The World.

Excluded By My Birth And Tastes From The Social Order, I Was Not Aware Of Its Diversity. Nothing In The World Was Irrelevant: The Stars On A General's Sleeve, The Stock-market Quotations, The Olive Harvest, The Style Of The Judiciary, The Wheat Exchange, Flower-beds. Nothing. This Order, Fearful And Feared, Whose Details Were All Inter-related, Had A Meaning: My Exile.

I Could Not Take Lightly The Idea That People Made Love Without Me.

The Vaporish Cocaine Loosens The Contours Of Their Lives And Sets Their Bodies Adrift, And So They Are Untouchable.

The Force Of What Was Called Panther Rhetoric Or Word Mongering Resided Not In Elegant Discourse But In Strength Of Affirmation (or Denial), In Anger Of Tone And Timbre. When The Anger Led To Action There Was No Turgidity Or Over-emphasis. Anyone Who Has Witnessed Political Rows Among The Whites Will Have To Admit That The Whites Aren't Overburdened With Poetic Imagination.