To love someone is to isolate him from the world, wipe out every trace of him, dispossess him of his shadow, drag him into a murderous future. It is to circle around the other like a dead star and absorb him into a black light.
JEAN BAUDRILLARDTo love someone is to isolate him from the world, wipe out every trace of him, dispossess him of his shadow, drag him into a murderous future. It is to circle around the other like a dead star and absorb him into a black light.
More Jean Baudrillard Quotes
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Driving is a spectacular form of amnesia.
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The great person is ahead of their time, the smart make something out of it, and the blockhead, sets themselves against it.
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At male strip shows, it is still the women that we watch, the audience of women and their eager faces. They are more obscene than if they were dancing naked themselves.
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I hesitate to deposit money in a bank. I am afraid I shall never dare to take it out again.
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You are born modern, you do not become so.
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Governing today means giving acceptable signs of credibility. It is like advertising and it is the same effect that is achieved – commitment to a scenario.
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Only facing up to this situation in all its desperation can help us get out of it.
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Seduction is always more singular and sublime than sex and it commands the higher price.
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Like dreams, statistics are a form of wish fulfillment.
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Americans may have no identity, but they do have wonderful teeth.
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Cowardice and courage are never without a measure of affectation. Nor is love. Feelings are never true. They play with their mirrors.
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If you say, I love you, then you have already fallen in love with language, which is already a form of break up and infidelity.
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Never resist a sentence you like, in which language takes its own pleasure and in which, after having abused it for so long, you are stupefied by its innocence.
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Deep down, the US, with its space, its technological refinement, its bluff good conscience, even in those spaces which it opens up for simulation, is the only remaining primitive society.
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There is no aphrodisiac like innocence.
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This sarcastic festival reflects, rather, an infernal demand for revenge by children on the adult world.
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What is a society without a heroic dimension?
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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.
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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.
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The very definition of the real becomes: that of which it is possible to give an equivalent reproduction.
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There is nothing funny about Halloween.
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There is nothing more mysterious than a TV set left on in an empty room.
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Everything is to be discovered, everything to be obliterated.
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There exists, between people in love, a kind of capital held by each.
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We shall never resolve the enigma of the relation between the negative foundations of greatness and that greatness itself.
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Perhaps the world’s second worst crime is boredom. The first is being a bore.
JEAN BAUDRILLARD