It’s not the word made flesh we want in writing, in poetry and fiction, but the flesh made word.
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It’s not the word made flesh we want in writing, in poetry and fiction, but the flesh made word.
“We are given over to absolute solitude. No one can speak with us and no one can speak for us; we must take it upon ourselves, each of us must take it upon himself.”
Jacques Derrida | The Gift of Death