All Classical literature resides in the movement that proceeds from the figure of the name to the name itself, passing from the task of naming the same thing yet again by means of new figures (which is preciosity) to that of finding words that will at last name accurately that which has never been named before or that which has remained dormant in the enveloping folds of words too far removed from it: of this latter kind are those secrets of the soul, those impressions born at the frontier of things and the body for which the language of the Cinqui me