Intimate journals | ||
LXXXVII
Of youth's hatred of the quoters of precedents.
The quoter is its enemy.
`Even spelling I would hand over to the hangman.'
THÉOPHILE GAUTIER.
A fine picture to paint: the literary riff-raff.
Not to forget a portrait of Forgues, the plagiarist,
the cream-skinner of letters.
Ineradicable desire for prostitution in the heart
of man, whence is born his horror of solitude. He
[48]
and therefore solitary. Glory is to remain one, and to
prostitute oneself in an individual manner.
It is this horror of solitude, this need to lose his
ego in exterior flesh, which man calls grandly the need
for love.
Two fine religions, immortalized upon walls, the
eternal obsessions of the People: a p—(the antique
phallus) and `Long live Barbès!' or `Down with
Philippe!' or `Long live the Republic!'
Intimate journals | ||