Newness only becomes mere evil in its totalitarian format, where all the tension between individual and society, that once gave rise to the category of the new, is dissipated. Today the appeal to newness, of no matter what kind, provided only that it is archaic enough, has become universal, the omnipresent medium of false mimesis. The decomposition of the subject is consummated in his self-abandonment to an ever-changing sameness.

When I made my theoretical model, I could not have guessed that people would try to realise it with Molotov cocktails.

Love is the power to see similarity in the dissimilar.

Even the loveliest dream bears like a blemish its difference from reality, the awareness that what it grants is mere illusion.

Today self-consciousness no longer means anything but reflection on the ego as embarrassment, as realization of impotence: knowing that one is nothing.

The capacity for fear and for happiness are the same, the unrestricted openness to experience amounting to self-abandonment in which the vanquished rediscovers himself.

There is no true life within a false life.