Law (n.) signifies without designating anything or anybody.
Law (n.) unites the change of the water and the permanence of the river.
Law (n.) that extracts constants from variables still 'savors of morality': nomad science puts the variables themselves into continuous variation.
Law (n.) is no natural, harmonious totality but an eminent formal unity reigning over pieces and fragments — as no one has shown better than Kafka.
Law (n.) does not soften war; when the jurist-king disciplines it, war becomes the war machine's only remaining object.
Law (n.) before it poses as a guarantee against despotism is the despot's own invention: the juridical form assumed by the infinite debt.
Law (n.) was once the overcoding of customs, then a set of topics; under capitalism it becomes an axiomatic, as in our civil code.
Law (n.) is arbitrary in every historical case — but the law of obeying laws is not: it is prehistoric and generic.
Law (n.) makes repetition impossible for its subjects: an invariable form of variation, it compels them to illustrate it only at the cost of their own change.
The Law (n.) is not knowable and is encountered only through its execution. We know it only through its moral imprint on our heart and our flesh.
Law (n.) is never the bottom of things: nature and spirit weave their repetitions in the depths of earth and heart, where laws do not yet exist.
Law (n.) tells us: you shall not marry your mother, you shall not kill your father — and we docile subjects think: so that's what I wanted!
Law (n.) only appears to protest on behalf of the One; its real object is to map the dispersions of fragmented universes, innocent because their source is madness.
Law (n.) welded to desire restarts the eternal operation of repression: the circle of prohibition and transgression, white mass and black mass.
Law (n.) of the imperial and barbarian kind reveals nothing and has no knowable object: the verdict does not exist before the penalty, nor the statement of the law before the verdict.
Law (n.) prohibits something perfectly fictitious in the order of desire so as to persuade its subjects they had the intention — its only way of getting a grip on intention, of making the unconscious guilty.
Law (n.) after Kant no longer depends on the Good; the Good depends on the law — self-grounded, its object unknowable, it defines a realm where one is already guilty without knowing the bounds, as with Oedipus.