“To know that one does not write for the other, to know that these things I am going to write will never cause me to be loved by the one I love (the other), to know that writing compensates for nothing, sublimates nothing, that it is precisely there where you are not — this is the beginning of writing.”
(Roland Barthes. A Lover’s Discourse: Fragments. trans R Howard, New York, Hill & Wang, 1979: 100)
