Writing has nothing to do with meaning. It has to do with landsurveying and cartography, including the mapping of countries yet to come.
Spinoza or Nietzsche are philosophers whose critical and destructive powers are without equal, but this power always springs from affirmation, from joy, from a cult of affirmation and joy, from the exigency of life against those who would mutilate and mortify life. For me, that is philosophy itself.
It’s impossible not to laugh when codes are jammed up.
You never walk alone. Even the devil is the lord of flies.
In truth, Freud sees nothing and understands nothing.
The shame of being a man - is there any better reason to write?