Each component of the organism, like the individual in the social body, possesses the capacity for enjoyment of the self through sharing with others.

The eruption of lived pleasure is such that in losing myself I find myself; forgetting that I exist, I realize myself.

To work for delight and authentic festivity is barely distinguishable from preparing for a general insurrection

Where constraint breaks people, and mediation makes fools of them, the seduction of power is what makes them love their oppression. Because of it, people give up their real riches for a cause that mutilates them; for an appearance that reifies them; for roles that wrest them from authentic life; for a time whose passage defines and confines them.

We can escape the commonplace only by manipulating it, controlling it, thrusting it into our dreams or surrendering it to the free play of our subjectivity.

Suffering is the pain of constraints. An atom of pure delight, no matter how small, can hold it at bay.

Hope is the leash of submission.