We are going toward the sea. I have swollen. I am carried away. Sometimes at night love comes up so quickly and so high, — Hélène Cixous, The Book of Promethea
We are going toward the sea. I have swollen. I am carried away. Sometimes at night love comes up so quickly and so high, — Hélène Cixous, The Book of Promethea
We are going toward the sea. I have swollen. I am carried away. Sometimes at night love comes up so quickly and so high, — Hélène Cixous, The Book of Promethea
We are going toward the sea. I have swollen. I am carried away. Sometimes at night love comes up so quickly and so high, — Hélène Cixous, The Book of Promethea
We are going toward the sea. I have swollen. I am carried away. Sometimes at night love comes up so quickly and so high, — Hélène Cixous, The Book of Promethea
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We are going toward the sea. I have swollen. I am carried away. Sometimes at night love comes up so quickly and so high, and if we have no little boat perhaps it is because we want to roll breathless under the ocean floor.

— Hélène Cixous, The Book of Promethea
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