The urn of language is so fragile. It crumbles and immediately you blow into the dust of words which are the cinder itself. And if you entrust it to paper, it is all the better to inflame you with, my dear, you will eat yourself up immediately.

Jacques Derrida, Cinders


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10:20 02/09/2013 | Lien permanent | Tags : lis tes ratures, humoeurs |  Facebook

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