If I only did what I can do, I wouldn't do anything

Still today, I cannot cross the threshold of a teaching institution without physical symptoms, in my chest and my stomach, of discomfort or anxiety. And yet I have never left school.

I always dream of a pen that would be a syringe.

I believe in the value of the book, which keeps something irreplaceable, and in the necessity of fighting to secure its respect.

As soon as there is language, generality has entered the scene.

But can one not conceive of a presence, and of a presence to itself of the subject before speech or signs, a presence to itself of the subject in a silent and intuitive consciousness? Such a question therefore presupposes that, prior to the sign, and outside it, excluding any trace and any différance, something like consciousness is possible.

Why is it apparently the philosopher who is expected to be "easier" and not some scientist or other who is even more inaccessible to the same readers?