...language Is Never Innocent.

We Don't Forget, But Something Vacant Settles In Us.

I Love You Is Unsubtle. It Removes Explanations, Facilities, Degrees, Scruples.

The Art Of Living Has No History: It Does Not Evolve: The Pleasure Which Vanishes Vanishes For Good, There Is No Substitute For It. Other Pleasures Come, Which Replace Nothing. No Progress In Pleasures, Nothing But Mutations.

One Must Turn The Tongue Seven Times In The Mouth Before Speaking.

The Discourse On The Text Should Itself Be Nothing Other Than Text, Research, Textual Activity, Since The Text Is That Social Space Which Leaves No Language Safe, Outside, Nor Any Subject Of The Enunciation In Position As Judge, Master, Analyst, Confessor, Decoder. The Theory Of The Text Can Coincide Only With A Practice Of Writing.