-Understand me, Michael, do not laugh in your breath. I know too much to imagine that I can believe in love as most women. I know I need a bit of excitement to spice their materiality, all put into it a little lie, to enjoy this lie even though we know that it is: but basically, I love the river as it understands the world, and I laugh at so many other revered by the people … I do not want love, I want fans. I seek not inspire love, I place more worship.

She was proud of her beauty. He spoke of Venus as a real person. Olympic serenity admired his giving to the gods and to men, not to exceed the time even in suffering the tyranny of sex offender. She was considered a superbelleza beyond the ordinary limits of vice and virtue, a living work of art, and art is neither moral nor immoral, it will be beautiful enough.

-Poets, painters and musicians looking to deliver the greatest number of admirers strive to enlarge the circle of public desire, seek, with a feminine coquetry, attract new applicants. I am like them. No need to create beauty, because, they say, I take on myself, my work is me, but I love the glory, the admiration I need, so I generously satisfied with the happiness that I provide, but without letting myself be dominated by those I want, keeping my audience at my feet.

Miguel thought that this woman’s life must have been several artists. You could see in his words, in images that wanted to express enthusiasm for his own body. The pride of her beauty was immense. What ambitions worth persecuted by men, compared with the satisfaction of being beautiful and desired? Only the glory of the warriors, bloodthirsty conquerors, whose names are known even in the wild places, could be equated with the universal domain of women.