How is it that as I feel I come closer to what there is to be said, there is less and less to say, or rather, that what I write, however much that is written, seems yet more inadequate? Write, erase writing. Write, and find by erasure what requires first of all to be written. So is writing a kind of sacrifice, so writing burns up without anything being destroyed. The words remain, the same as before, but they are blazing. But nothing is blazing. There are words, only words, and nothing besides. Write less; pare writing away. Be more economical; limit yourself. Do not write of this, not of that. Then will you find writing itself? Then will you run it to ground, what there is to be said?