A book has neither object nor subject; it is made of variously formed matters, and very different dates and speeds.

"Lose your face: become capable of loving without remembering, without phantasm and without interpretation, without taking stock. Let there just be fluxes, which sometimes dry up, freeze or overflow, which sometimes combine or diverge."

Gilles Deleuze

"The shadow escapes from the body like an animal we had been sheltering."

Gilles Deleuze