Art is not communicative, art is not reflexive. Art, science, philosophy are neither contemplative, neither reflexive, nor communicative. They are creative, that’s all.
There’s no need to fear or hope, but only to look for new weapons.
Forming grammatically correct sentences is for the normal individual the prerequisite for any submission to social laws. No one is supposed to be ignorant of grammaticality; those who are belong in special institutions. The unity of language is fundamentally political.
Underneath all reason lies delirium and drift.
It is always from the depths of its impotence that each power center draws its power, hence their extreme maliciousness, and vanity.
A leftist government doesn’t exist because being on the left has nothing to do with governments.
Write, form a rhizome, increase your territory by deterritorialization, extend the line of flight to the point where it becomes an abstract machine covering the entire plane of consistency.
Every time someone puts an objection to me, I want to say: ‘OK, OK, let’s go on to something else.’ Objections have never contributed anything.
As for being responsible or irresponsible, we don’t recognize those notions, they’re for policemen and courtroom psychiatrists.
Bring something incomprehensible into the world!
Reading something from beginning to end. That is reading with love.
My eye, my brain, are images, parts of my body. How could my brain contain images since it is one image among others?
The self is only a threshold, a door, a becoming between two multiplicities.
The percept is the landscape before man, in the absence of man.
It’s not easy to see things from the middle, rather than looking down on them from above or up at them from below, or from left to right or right to left: try it, you’ll see that everything changes.
It is not the slumber of reason that engenders monsters, but vigilant and insomniac rationality.
Is it not first through the voice that one becomes animal?
In truth, Freud sees nothing and understands nothing.
External images act on me, transmit movement to me, and I return movement: how could images be in my consciousness since I am myself image, that is, movement?
Things never pass where you think, nor along the paths you think.