Man (n.) is an organism-in-culture, and the disjunction that implies is the source of all our troubles.
Man (n.) speaks — but only because the symbol has made him man.
Man (n.) in the sense of the male, the virile as we know him, is a creation of discourse; the same cannot be said of woman.
Man (n.) recognizes the cause of his desire only by receiving the feminizing effect of the small a.
Man (n.) is not an object but a being in the process of becoming, something metaphysical — and psychoanalysis traces its vanishing point.
Man (n.) is "that waste matter which falls into the world from the devil's anus" — an excremental image of exile from any good in the world, more analytic than modern talk of weaning.
Man (n.) survives the death of God, which he assumes — and in doing so stands before us exposed.
Man (n.) in Sophocles's ode is all-resourceful and always screwed: he advances toward nothing that is likely to happen and always manages to bring things crashing down on his head.
Man (n.) may be good or bad in the beginning — that hardly matters; what matters is what will transpire once the book has been eaten.
Man (n.) is spoken through by something that goes far beyond speech and penetrates his dreams, his being and his very organism.
Man (n.) and woman are signifiers before they are attitudes — not active and passive, not aggressive and yielding, not patterns of behavior.
Man (n.) is, for Freud, not the bearer of the irrational but of a reason he is more victim than master of, and condemned by in advance.
Man (n.) is not so much a beast of prey as a beast that language preys upon.