Thus every writer’s motto reads: mad I cannot be, sane I do not deign to be, neurotic I am.
ROLAND BARTHESThus every writer’s motto reads: mad I cannot be, sane I do not deign to be, neurotic I am.
More Roland Barthes Quotes
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Television doomed us to the Family, whose household instrument it has become-what the hearth used to be, flanked by the communal kettle.
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A light without shadow generates an emotion without reserve.
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A paradox: the same century invented history and photography. But history is a memory fabricated according to positive formulas, a pure intellectual discourse which abolishes mythic time; and the photograph is a certain but fugitive testimony.
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The haiku reproduces the designating gesture of the child pointing at whatever it is (the haiku shows no partiality for the subject), merely saying: that!
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I love you is unsubtle. It removes explanations, facilities, degrees, scruples.
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The photographic image is a message without a code.
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The realists do not take the photograph for a ‘copy’ of reality, but for an emanation of past reality, a magic, not an art.
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Through the mythology of Einstein, the world blissfully regained the image of knowledge reduced to a formula.
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The lover’s fatal identity is precisely this: I am the one who waits.
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The author enters into his own death, writing begins.
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To make someone wait: the constant prerogative of all power.
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Physically, the Ventoux is dreadful. Bald, it’s the spirit of Dry: Its climate (it is much more an essence of climate than a geographic place) makes it a damned terrain, a testing place for heroes, something like a higher hell.
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The lover who does not forget sometimes dies from excess, fatigue, and the strain of memory (like Werther).
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Frontiers are physical as well as symbolic constructions.
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When we look at a photograph of ourselves or of others, we are really looking at the return of the dead.
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Language is never innocent.
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I am interested in language because it wounds or seduces me.
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I try to busy myself elsewhere, to arrive late; but I always lose at this game. Whatever I do, I find myself there, with nothing to do, punctual, even ahead of time.
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The new is not a fashion, it is a value.
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Isn’t the most sensitive point of this mourning the fact that I must lose a language – the amorous language? No more ‘I love you’s.
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I cannot classify the other, for the other is, precisely, Unique, the singular Image which has miraculously come to correspond to the speciality of my desire. The other is the figure of my truth, and cannot be imprisoned in any stereotype (which is the truth of others).
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To know that one does not write for the other, to know that these things I am going to write will never cause me to be loved by the one I love (the other), to know that writing compensates for nothing, sublimates nothing, that it is precisely there where you are not–this is the beginning of writing.
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If I acknowledge my dependency, I do so because for me it is a means of signifying my demand: in the realm of love, futility is not a “weakness” or an “absurdity”: it is a strong sign: the more futile, the more it signifies and the more it asserts itself as strength.)
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All those young photographers who are at work in the world, determined upon the capture of actuality, do not know that they are agents of Death.
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How does meaning get into the image? Where does it end? And if it ends, what is there beyond?
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To eat steak rare represents both a nature and a morality.
ROLAND BARTHES