“If the site of a ruin seems perilous, I shudder. If I feel safe and secure there, I’m freer, more alone, more myself, closer to myself. It’s there that I miss my friend.” Diderot.
"A cloister. The background of an ageing forest. The tiles are neatly arranged, supporting beams, the cross has been picked up, wild grass grows in the garden. Every place is the place of a projection, in an image, an infinity of images, including this one: a candid place without ringing bells or silent prayers, where possibility and impatience, desire and tenderness, birth and end, resurface. Nothing is more precious than this moment, this image and the dream that it begins again. To hell with ulterior motives, petty strategy. To hell with the pure and the impure! Do not lose your only chance. Enter this room under the sky with consciousness in the place that says yes, yes to the other, yes to love. “One moment to dawdle, a lifetime to regret!” (Jankeleevich). What would these charming stones and greenery be without your breath, without your lovers’ eyes, without your hands and mouth looking for each other? This is a place of pleasure, of miraculous simultaneity, and of lucky reciprocity between body and soul. Your silhouettes against a column, lying in the aisle, mingled and united. So many times! Your wonderful youth!" — Lilyane Beauquel