Beyond The Touchline There Is Nothing.

Surviving - That Is The Other Name Of A Mourning Whose Possibility Is Never To Be Awaited.

It Is To Have A Compulsive, Repetitive, And Nostalgic Desire For The Archive, An Irrepressible Desire To Return To The Origin, A Homesickness, A Nostalgia For The Return To The Most Archaic Place Of Absolute Commencement

In Philosophy, You Have To Reckon With The Implicit Level Of An Accumulated Reserve, And Thus With A Very Great Number Of Relays, With The Shared Responsibility Of These Relays.

The Circle Of The Return To Birth Can Only Remain Open, But This Is A Chance, A Sign Of Life, And A Wound.

I Wrote Some Bad Poetry That I Published In North African Journals, But Even As I Withdrew Into This Reading, I Also Led The Life Of A Kind Of Young Hooligan.