There are only a few images that are not forced to provide meaning, or have to go through the filter of a specific idea.

Santa Barbara is a paradise; Disneyland is a paradise; the U.S. is a paradise. Paradise is just paradise. Mournful, monotonous, and superficial though it may be, it is paradise. There is no other.

Never resist a sentence you like, in which language takes its own pleasure and in which, after having abused it for so long, you are stupefied by its innocence.

The simulacrum is never that which conceals the truth--it is the truth which conceals that there is none. The simulacrum is true.

A sociosphere of contact, control, persuasion and dissuasion, of exhibitions of inhibitions in massive or homeopathic doses...: this is obscenity. All structures turned inside out and exhibited, all operations rendered visible. In America this goes all the way from the bewildering network of aerial telephone and electric wiresto the concrete multiplication of all the bodily functions in the home, the litany of ingredients on the tiniest can of food, the exhibition of income or IQ.

One has never said better how much "humanism", "normality", "quality of life" were nothing but the vicissitudes of profitability.

If you say, I love you, then you have already fallen in love with language, which is already a form of break up and infidelity.