"‘I’m cold,’ the lover says, ‘let’s go back’; but there is no road, no way, the boat is wrecked. There is a coldness particular to the lover, the chilliness of the child (or of any young animal) that needs maternal warmth."

Roland Barthes, A Lover’s Discourse: Fragments, trans. Richard Howard

(adapted from baroquemirrors)

(via proustitute)

2 months ago  Notes (137)
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