Writings Scatter To The Winds Blank Checks

Love Means Giving Something You Don't Have To Someone Who Doesn't Want It.

The Narration, In Fact, Doubles The Drama With A Commentary Without Which No Mise En Scene Would Be Possible.

The Only Thing Of Which One Can Be Guilty Is Of Having Given Ground Relative To One's Desire.

I Identify Myself In Language, But Only By Losing Myself In It Like An Object. What Is Realised In My History Is Not The Past Definite Of What Was, Since It Is No More, Or Even The Present Perfect Of What Has Been In What I Am, But The Future Anterior Of What I Shall Have Been For What I Am In The Process Of Becoming.

The Unconscious Is Structured Like A Language.