Feb 21, 2020
"On Saturday night her everyday soul was lost, and how good it was to lose it (...) And this burst of laughter? that burst of laughter coming mysteriously from her full, white throat, in response to the businessman's finesse, a burst of laughter coming from the depth of that sleep, and the depth of that assurance of one who posseses a body. Her snow-white flesh was sweet as a lobster's, the legs of a live lobster wriggling slowly in the air. And that urge to feel wicked so as to deepen the sweetness into awfulness. And that little wickedness of whoever has a body."
- Clarice Lispector, 'Daydream and Drunkness of a Young Lady"