About Violette Leduc: Violette Leduc was a French author.
At the age of five, of six, at the age of seven, I used to begin weeping sometimes without warning, simply for the sake of weeping, my eyes open wide to the sun, to the flowers... I wanted to feel an immense grief inside me, and it came.
I give myself to adjectives body and soul, I die with pleasure for them.
My mother never took my hand.
There's no sustenance in the past.
To find relief in what has been, we must make ourselves eternal.
I was afraid of having to present my big nose to strangers.
Often, we melt into our ecstasies as though they were jams, as though we were sinking into syrupy bowls of gooseberries, of raspberries, of bilberries.
