The traditional statement about language is that it is in itself living, and that writing is the dead part of language.

I love language as I love life itself!

If things were simple, word would have gotten around.

Contrary to what phenomenology- which is always phenomenology of perception- has tried to make us believe, contrary to what our desire cannot fail to be tempted into believing, the thing itself always escapes.

Surviving - that is the other name of a mourning whose possibility is never to be awaited.

I never give in to the temptation to be difficult just for the sake of being difficult. That would be too ridiculous.

These years of the Ecole Normale were an ordeal. Nothing was handed to me on the first try.