We’re here. Where the story of our lives takes place. Nowhere else. We have no lover but those in our sleep. We have no human desires. All we know is the faces of animals, the form and beauty of the forests. We’re afraid of ourselves. Our bodies are cold. We are made up of cold and fear and desire. They used to burn us. They kill us still in Kuwait and the wilder parts of Arabia. —Marguerite Duras
C’est La Vie
