The Flesh Is At The

The Flesh Is At The Heart Of The World.

Like The Weaver, The Writer Works On The Wrong Side Of His Material. He Has Only To Do With The Language, And It Is Thus That He Suddenly Finds Himself Surrounded By Sense.

The World Is Nothing But 'world-as-meaning.

I Live In The Facial Expressions Of The Other, As I Feel Him Living In Mine.

Our View Of Man Will Remain Superficial So Long As We Fail To Go Back To That Origin [of Silence], So Long As We Fail To Find, Beneath The Chatter Of Words, The Primordial Silence, And As Long As We Do Not Describe The Action Which Breaks This Silence. The Spoken Word Is A Gesture, And Its Meaning, A World.