So the experience of death is turned into that of the exchange of functionaries, and anything in the natural relationship to death that is not wholly absorbed into the social one is turned over to hygiene. In being seen as no more than the exit of a living creature from the social combine, death has been domesticated: dying merely confirms the absolute irrelevance of the natural organism in face of the social absolute.

History does not merely touch on language, but takes place in it.

Happiness is obsolete: uneconomic.

In psycho-analysis nothing is true except the exaggerations.

The task of art today is to bring chaos into order.

The almost insoluble task is to let neither the power of others, nor our own powerlessness, stupefy us.

The gods look in pleasure on penitent sinners.