_the streets are filled with forests

I like films where nothing happens.

In the night, where the contours and gradated tones of things and of the spaces between things fade out, we are left not adrift in void, but in plenitude, a spatiality without planes nor separations but full and oppressive

the body in its materiality; the irreducibility of aesthetic experience; the transcendental function of sensation; the ecological aspect of sensibility; the horror of existence

The quest for truth unfolds in the apparition of forms.

No matter how much he read and thought, some kind of hollow place remained ever within him, an emptiness through which an undescribed and untold world passed like a startled wind.

... run till the heart throbs like bursting in the chest, run till the life of the body overwhelms all knowledge and thought, fleet, searching and being sought, run with the deer who flee and the men who pursue, run with the spinning life of the great sun and the surge of the spring tides, run with the flow of life ...

An atom is an image which extends to the point to which its actions and reactions extend. My body is is an image, hence a set of actions and reactions. My eye, my brain, are images, parts of my body. How could my brain contain images since it is one image among others? External images act on me, transmit movement to me, and i return movement: how could images be in my consciousness since i am myself image, that is, movement? ... It is a world of universal variation, of universal undulation, universal rippling: there are neither axes, nor centre, nor left, nor right, nor high, nor low...

Growing Up

We know that things and people are always forced to conceal themselves, have to conceal themselves when they begin. What else could they do? They come into being within a set which no longer includes them and, in order not to be rejected, have to project the characteristics which they retain in common with the set. The essence of a thing never appears at the outset, but in the middle, in the course of its development, when its strength is assured

...the convenient distinction between cultural texts that are social and political and those that are not becomes something worse than an error: namely, a symptom and reinforcement of the reification and privatization of contemporary life. Such a distinction reconfirms that structural, experiential, and conceptual gap between the public and the private, between the social and the psychological, or the political and the poetic, between history or society and the 'individual', which ... mains our existence as individual subjects and paralyzes our thinking about time and change just as surely as it alienates us from our speech itself.