Whatever Is Not Stone Is Light

Every Moment Is Nothing Without End.

I Thought That The World Was A Vast System Of Signs, A Conversation Between Giant Beings. My Actions, The Cricket's Saw, The Star's Blink, Were Nothing But Pauses And Syllables, Scattered Phrases From That Dialogue. What Word Could It Be, Of Which I Was Only A Syllable? Who Speaks The Word? To Whom Is It Spoken?

Social Criticism Begins With Grammar And The Re-establishing Of Meanings.

Without Democracy Freedom Is A Chimera

Erotic Acts Are Instinctive; They Fulfill A Role In Nature. The Idea Is Familiar, But It Is One That Contains A Paradox: There Is Nothing More Natural Than Sexual Desire; There Is Nothing Less Natural Than The Forms In Which It Is Made Manifest And Satisfied.