“I ask of writing what I ask of desire: that it have no relation to the logic which puts desire on the side of possession, of acquisition, or even of that consumption-consummation which, when pushed to its limits with such exultation, links (false) consciousness with death. I do not believe that writing – insofar as it is a production of desire – or the desire which can do anything, cannot be defined, nor that it is to be defined in accordance with death’s borders. Death is nothing. It is not something. It is a hole. I can fill it with fantasies, and give it a name, freely. I can also think castration. But nothing human, nothing real, obliges me to. Nothing can stop me from thinking otherwise, without accounting for death.”

– from “First Names of No One” by Heléne Cixous, from The Heléne Cixous Reader, edited by Susan Sellers,with a foreword by Jacques Derrida