The Body Is To Be Compared, Not

My Hold On The Past And The Future Is Precarious And My Possession Of My Own Time Is Always Postponed Until A Stage When I May Fully Understand It, Yet This Stage Can Never Be Reached, Since It Would Be One More Moment Bounded By The Horizon Of Its Future, And Requiring In Its Turn, Further Developments In Order To Be Understood.

The Body Is To Be Compared, Not To A Physical Object, But Rather To A Work Of Art.

We Should Be Sensitive To The Thread Of Silence From Which The Tissue Of Speech Is Woven.

True Reflection Presents Me To Myself Not As Idle And Inaccessible Subjectivity, But As Identical With My Presence In The World And To Others, As I Am Now Realizing It: I Am All That I See, I Am An Intersubjective Field, Not Despite My Body And Historical Situation, But, On The Contrary, By Being This Body And This Situation, And Through Them, All The Rest.

Language Transcends Us And Yet We Speak.