There is something at the bottom of every new human thought, every thought of genius, or even every earnest thought that springs up in any brain, which can never be communicated to others…; there’s something left which cannot be induced to emerge from your brain, and remains with you forever; and with it you will die, without communicating to anyone perhaps the most important of your ideas.

– Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Idiot

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… freedom which on this earth can only be bought by a thousand of the hardest sacrifices, must be enjoyed unrestrictedly in its fullness, without any kind of pragmatic calculation, as long as it lasts…

– André Breton, Nadja

I am dépaysée in extrovert life – I lose my soul, my dreams. I would like to lie at the bottom of the sea, live there au fond des choses, toujours au fond.

– Anaïs Nin, diary (1932-1934)