Speaking I speak in the small room without doors. The objects of my speech are given, named, told to me, by me. Speaking to the Other, I watch expectant eyes that correct my mistakes, show me the blinding light. I am what I say. but how many things can I say in a room so small, whose etchings are clear in the light of my eyes. I repeat what others know. There are only seven things in the room, it seems they never change but I keep speaking of them. Only they are not the same objects the last people described.
Discourse Other Will to Power