I Am Interested In Language Because It

One Of The Marks Of Our World Is Perhaps This Reversal: We Live According To A Generalized Image-repertoire. Consider The United Sates, Where Everything Is Transformed Into Images: Only Images Exist And Are Produced And Are Consumes ... Such A Reversal Necessarily Raises The Ethical Question: Not That The Image Is Immoral, Irreligious, Or Diabolic (as Some Have Declared It, Upon The Advent Of The Photograph), But Because, When Generalized, It Completely De-realizes The Human World Of Conflicts And Desires, Under Cover Of Illustrating It.

We Can Never Know, For The Good Reason That Writing Is The Destruction Of Every Voice, Every Origin. Writing Is That Neuter, That Composite, That Obliquity Into Which Our Subject Flees, The Black-and-white Where All Identity Is Lost, Beginning With The Very Identity Of The Body That Writes.

Eiffel Saw His Tower In The Form Of A Serious Object, Rational, Useful; Men Return It To Him In The Form Of A Great Baroque Dream Which Quite Naturally Touches On The Borders Of The Irrational ... Architecture Is Always Dream And Function, Expression Of A Utopia And Instrument Of A Convenience.

Someone Tells Me: This Kind Of Love Is Not Viable. But How Can You Evaluate Viability? Why Is The Viable A Good Thing? Why Is It Better To Last Than To Burn?

If I Had To Create A God, I Would Lend Him A “slow Understanding”: A Kind Of Drip-by-drip Understanding Of Problems. People Who Understand Quickly Frighten Me.