It is likely that transgression has its entire space in the line it crosses. The play of limits and transgression seems to be regulated by a simple obstinacy: transgression incessantly crosses and recrosses a line which closes up behind it in a wave of extremely short duration, and thus it is made to return once more right to the horizon of the uncrossable. 

- A Preface to Transgression, Michel Foucault

Perhaps the importance of sexuality in our culture, the fact that since Sade it has persistently been linked to the most profound decisions of our language, derives from nothing else than this correspondence which connects it to the death of God. Not that this death should be understood as the end of his historical reign or as the finally delivered judgment of his nonexistence, but as the now constant space of our experience. 

- A Preface to Transgression, Michel Foucault

Everybody has that feeling when they look at a work of art and it’s right, that sudden familiarity, a sort of … recognition, as though they were creating it themselves, as though it were being created through them while they look at it or listen to it and, it shouldn’t be sinful to want to have created beauty?

- William Gaddis, The Recognitions 

In the process of the construction, it is necessary to make the Work acquire enough strength to overcome the fatal paradox of being, on the one hand, an object created to transcend the death of the ego, and on the other, an instrument for absolute nullification of personality, into the regenerating dissolution of nothingness with no beginning, no end, neither above nor below.

- Gabriel Santamarina, The Ideal Work

The meditation upon the driving force behind the artistic practice leads me to the question about the real meaning of the work that a minute applicant like me for becoming a servant of the Absolute must undertake in order to be a conscious part in the vital operations of this universal laboratory.

- Gabriel Santamarina, The Ideal Work

I am Ion, the priest of sanctity. I have suffered terribly, since once, in the early morning, someone came here, opened my head with his sword, and meticulously cut me into pieces…tore off all the skin of my head, mixed my bones with my flesh and burned everything in the practice of the Work. Thus, through the transformation of the body, I have been able to become a spirit.

- Zosimos of Panopolis

Blackout Beach - Be Forewarned, The Night Has Come
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