Yet it must be spoken.

Whichever way one moved, if one were to move forwards, one must break a way through.

And to know, to give utterance, was to break a way through the walls of the prison as the infant in labour strives through the walls of the womb.

There is no new movement now, without the breaking through of the old body, deliberately, in knowledge, in the struggle to get out.
'I don't want love,' he said.

'I don't want to know you.