 Americans may have no identity, but they do have wonderful teeth. |
| The sad thing about artificial intelligence is that it lacks artifice and therefore intelligence. |
| There is nothing more mysterious than a TV set left on in an empty room. It is even stranger than a man talking to himself or a woman standing dreaming at her stove. It is as if another planet is communicating with you. |
| The world is not dialectical - it is sworn to extremes, not to equilibrium, sworn to radical antagonism, not to reconciliation or synthesis. This is also the principle of evil. |
| Deep down, no one really believes they have a right to live. But this death sentence generally stays tucked away, hidden beneath the difficulty of living. If that difficulty is removed from time to time, death is suddenly there, unintelligibly. |
| The very definition of the real becomes: that of which it is possible to give an equivalent reproduction. The real is not only what can be reproduced, but that which is always already reproduced. The hyper real. |
| What you have to do is enter the fiction of America, enter America as fiction. It is, indeed, on this fictive basis that it dominates the world. |
| Santa Barbara is a paradise; Disneyland is a paradise; the U.S. is a paradise. Paradise is just paradise. Mournful, monotonous, and superficial though it may be, it is paradise. There is no other. |
| The great person is ahead of their time, the smart make something out of it, and the blockhead, sets themselves against it. |
| There is nothing funny about Halloween. This sarcastic festival reflects, rather, an infernal demand for revenge by children on the adult world. |
| In the same way that we need statesmen to spare us the abjection of exercising power, we need scholars to spare us the abjection of learning. |
| Like dreams, statistics are a form of wish fulfillment. |
| Driving is a spectacular form of amnesia. Everything is to be discovered, everything to be obliterated. |
| I hesitate to deposit money in a bank. I am afraid I shall never dare to take it out again. When you go to confession and entrust your sins to the safe-keeping of the priest, do you ever come back for them? |
| Cowardice and courage are never without a measure of affectation. Nor is love. Feelings are never true. They play with their mirrors. |
