If the hero join combat with night and conquer it, may shreds of it remain upon him!
I suffered at the time from an ugliness I no longer find on my childhood face.
By remaining inaccessible, he became the epitome of those whom I have named and who stagger me. I was therefore chaste.
Fierce and pure, I was the theater of a fairyland restored to life.
To achieve harmony in bad taste is the height of elegance.
Yet, what is their violence compared to mine, which was to accept theirs, to make it mine, to wish it for myself, to intercept it, to utilize it, to force it upon myself, to know it, to premeditate it, to discern and assume its perils? But what was mine, willed and necessary for my defense, my toughness, my rigor, compared to the violence they underwent like a malediction, risen from an inner fire simultaneously with an outer light which sets them ablaze and illuminates us?
But--criminals are remote from you--as in love, they turn away and turn me away from the world and its laws. Thiers smells of sweat, sperm, and blood. In short, to my body and my thristy soul it offers devotion. It was because their world contains these erotic conditions that I was bent on evil.
With homosexuality added, it would be sparkling, unassimilable.
In reference to the French Gestapo
Excluded by my birth and tastes from the social order, I was not aware of its diversity. I wondered at its perfect coherence, which rejected me.
So long as we were in a room in a brothel, we belonged to our fantasies, but once having exposed them, we're now tied up with human beings, tied to you and forced to go on with this adventure according to the laws of visibility.