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.
ROLAND BARTHESIsn’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.
ROLAND BARTHESThrough the mythology of Einstein, the world blissfully regained the image of knowledge reduced to a formula.
ROLAND BARTHESMan does not exist prior to language, either as a species or as an individual.
ROLAND BARTHESEvery object in the world can pass from a closed, silent existence to an oral state, open to appropriation by society, for there is no law, whether natural or not, which forbids talking about things
ROLAND BARTHESThe text is a tissue of quotations drawn from the innumerable centres of culture.
ROLAND BARTHESEach of us has his own rhythm of suffering.
ROLAND BARTHESIt must always be considered as though spoken by a character in a novel
ROLAND BARTHESHow does meaning get into the image? Where does it end? And if it ends, what is there beyond?
ROLAND BARTHESThis endured absence is nothing more or less than forgetfulness. I am, intermittently, unfaithful. This is the condition of my survival.
ROLAND BARTHESI am interested in language because it wounds or seduces me.
ROLAND BARTHESTo eat, to speak, to sing (need we add: to kiss?) are operations which have the same site of the body for origin.
ROLAND BARTHESI love you is unsubtle. It removes explanations, facilities, degrees, scruples.
ROLAND BARTHESThe Ventoux is a god of Evil, to which sacrifices must be made. It never forgives weakness and extracts an unfair tribute of suffering.
ROLAND BARTHESTouch is the most demystifying of all senses, different from sight which is the most magical.
ROLAND BARTHESHe who reads a story only once is condemned to read the same story his whole life.
ROLAND BARTHESIn an initial period, Photography, in order to surprise, photographs the notable; but soon, by a familiar reversal, it decrees notable whatever it photographs. The ‘anything whatever’ then becomes the sophisticated acme of value.
ROLAND BARTHES