"This room had only one way in, and it was a narrow one: through the cockroach…By a perilous road I had reached the deep breach in the wall that was that room…and the break formed a wide natural hall like in a cave. Bare, as though prepared for only one person's entrance. And whoever came in would be transformed into a 'she' or into a 'he'. I was the person the room called 'she'. I had come in an 'I', but the room then gave me the dimensions of 'she'. As though I were also the other side of a cube, the side that you don't see because you are seeing the front side.
And, in my great expansion, I was on the desert…I was on the desert as I had never been before. It was a desert that called me like a monotonous remote canticle calls. I was being seduced. And I went toward that enticing madness. But my fear was not the fear of someone who was going toward madness and thus toward the truth - my fear was the fear of having a truth that I would come to despise, a defamatory truth that would make me get down and exist at the level of the cockroach. My first contact with truths always defamed me." - from The Passion According to G.H., Clarice Lispector