Status Updates From Incidents

The little Marrakesh schoolteacher: “I’ll do whatever you want,” he says, effusively, his eyes filled with kindness and complicity. Which means: I’ll fuck you, and that’s all.

Pure paradox: an Arab for whom someone else’s cock exists and not only his own (which is his ego).

… since mere eye contact and an exchange of words eroticizes me, it was that pleasure I paid for.

Always this notion: suppose the Moderns were wrong? What if they had no talent?

Would Proust have liked it? I don’t know: there are no duchesses anymore.

Marrakesh souk: wild roses in the piles of mint.

Civilisation is when you know your rights and are conscious of your duties.

I find no other way of saying it: it is a luminous light. You must see this light (I would almost say: hear it, so musical is its quality) in autumn, which is the sovereign season of this country; liquid, radiant, heartrending since it is the last fine light of the year …

For ‘to read’ a country is first of all to perceive in in terms of the body and of memory, in terms of the body’s memory.

Isn’t the village, in France, always a contradictory space?