The Flesh Is At The Heart Of

I Live In The Facial Expressions Of The Other, As I Feel Him Living In Mine.

The Photograph Keeps Open The Instants Which The Onrush Of Time Closes Up Forthwith; It Destroys The Overtaking, The Overlapping, The Metamorphosis Of Time.

The Child Lives In A World Which He Unhesitatingly Believes Accessible To All Around Him.

Even Those Who Have Desired To Work Out A Completely Positive Philosophy Have Been Philosophers Only To The Extent That, At The Same Time, They Have Refused The Right To Install Themselves In Absolute Knowledge. They Taught Not This Knowledge, But Its Becoming In Us, Not The Absolute But, At Most, Our Absolute Relation To It, As Kierkegaard Said. What Makes A Philosopher Is The Movement Which Leads Back Without Ceasing From Knowledge To Ignorance, From Ignorance To Knowledge, And A Kind Of Rest In This Movement.

My Hold On The Past And The Future Is Precarious And My Possession Of My Own Time Is Always Postponed Until A Stage When I May Fully Understand It, Yet This Stage Can Never Be Reached, Since It Would Be One More Moment Bounded By The Horizon Of Its Future, And Requiring In Its Turn, Further Developments In Order To Be Understood.