I Do Not Believe In Pure Idioms.

I Always Dream Of A Pen That Would Be A Syringe.

During The Fifteen Or Twenty Years In Which I Tried - It Was Not Always Easy With Publishers, Newspapers, Etc. - To Forbid Photographs, It Was Not At All In Order To Mark A Sort Of Blank, Absence, Or Disappearance Of The Image; It Was Because The Code That Dominates At Once The Production Of These Images, The Framing They Are Made To Undergo, The Social Implications (showing The Writer's Head Framed In Front His Bookshelves, The Whole Scenario) Seemed To Me To Be, First Of All, Terribly Boring, But Also Contrary To What I Am Trying To Write And To Work On.

Circumcision , That's All I've Ever Talked About.

As Soon As We Cease To Believe In Such An Engineer And In A Discourse Which Breaks With The Received Historical Discourse, And As Soon As We Admit That Every Finite Discourse Is Bound By A Certain Bricolage And That The Engineer And The Scientist Are Also Species Of Bricoleurs , Then The Very Idea Of Bricolage Is Menaced And The Difference In Which It Took On Its Meaning Breaks Down.

In Algeria, I Had Begun To Get Into Literature And Philosophy. I Dreamed Of Writing-and Already Models Were Instructing The Dream, A Certain Language Governed It.