Language (n.) tempts us to reduce the lived to the schematic statement it gives of it.
Language (n.) when inner is not made of verbal images; it is exclusively motor — real words produced by real movements of the glottis.
Language (n.) escapes me in every act — I am language. Whatever I do has outside of it a meaning that escapes me, and only in this sense am I what I say.
Language (n.) teaches us our own thoughts: speaking returns them better defined than we gave them, and only because words are outside us and resist — an imagined sentence, bending to our knowledge, teaches nothing.
Language (n.) designates man as the object of man; but in trying to recover the source of every sign, it turns back on itself to indicate a comprehension forever in process.