...language Is Never Innocent.

When We Look At A Photograph Of Ourselves Or Of Others, We Are Really Looking At The Return Of The Dead.

...what I Enjoy In A Narrative Is Not Directly Its Content Or Even Its Structure, But Rather The Abrasions I Impose Upon The Fine Surface: I Read On, I Skip, I Look Up, I Dip In Again. Which Has Nothing To Do With The Deep Laceration The Text Of Bliss Inflicts Upon Language Itself, And Not Upon The Simple Temporality Of Its Reading.

The Photographer, Like An Acrobat, Must Defy The Laws Of Probability Or Even Of Possibility; At The Limit, He Must Defy Those Of The Interesting: The Photograph Becomes Surprising When We Do Not Know Why It Has Been Taken.

The Unary Photograph Has Every Reason To Be Banal, 'unity' Of Composition Being The First Rule Of Vulgar (and Notably, Of Academic) Rhetoric: 'the Subject,' Says One Handbook For Amateur Photographers, 'must Be Simple, Free Of Useless Accessories; This Is Called The Search For Unity.

I Try To Busy Myself Elsewhere, To Arrive Late; But I Always Lose At This Game. Whatever I Do, I Find Myself There, With Nothing To Do, Punctual, Even Ahead Of Time.