As soon as there is language, generality has entered the scene.
Certain readers resented me when they could no longer recognize their territory, their institution.
Everything is arranged so that it be this way, this is what is called culture.
I became the stage for the great argument between Nietzsche and Rousseau. I was the extra ready to take on all the roles.
I do everything I think possible or acceptable to escape from this trap.
I never give in to the temptation to be difficult just for the sake of being difficult. That would be too ridiculous.
I wrote some bad poetry that I published in North African journals, but even as I withdrew into this reading, I also led the life of a kind of young hooligan.
The circle of the return to birth can only remain open, but this is a chance, a sign of life, and a wound.
The first problem of the media is posed by what does not get translated, or even published in the dominant political languages.
These years of the Ecole Normale were an ordeal. Nothing was handed to me on the first try.
To pretend, I actually do the thing I have therefore only pretended to pretend.
To pretend, I actually do the thing: I have therefore only pretended to pretend.
We are all mediators, translators.
Who ever said that one was born just once?
Why is it the philosopher who is expected to be easier and not some scientist who is even more inaccessible?
