Is the abyss no more thanan expedient annihilation? It would not be difficult for me toread the abyss, not as a repose, but as anemotion.

I mask my mourning by an evasion; I dilutemyself, I swoonin order to escape that density, that clogging which makes me into aresponsiblesubject: I come out: it is ecstasy.

Rue duCherche-Midi, aftera difficultevening, X was explaining very carefully, his voice exact,his sentences well-formed, farfrom anything inexpressible,that sometimes he longed to swoon; heregretted never beingable to disappear at will.

His wordswere saying that he meant then to succumb to his weakness, not to resist the wounds the world inflictedupon him; but at the same time he was substitutingfor this failing strength another strength,anotheraffirmation:

I assume toward and against everything a denial of courage,hence a denial of morality: saying.