Need (n.) shows that the needy one does not wholly possess its being and so is not, strictly speaking, separate.
Need (n.) is a being that has detached itself from the world it still feeds on — a distance that can be turned into time.
Need (n.) is a void of the soul and starts from the subject; desire starts from its "object" — it is revelation.
Need (n.) in humans is never as univocal as an animal's — every human need is interpreted by culture from the start.
Need (n.) is a happy dependence: what my existence requires in order to subsist also interests it, and I live from it with joy.
Need (n.) even of a sublime kind, like the need for salvation, is still nostalgia — the anxiety of the I for itself, the original form of egoism.
Need (n.) is the vulgar Venus: like Eros, child of Plenty and Poverty — but Poverty as the source of Plenty, where desire is the poverty of plenty.
Need (n.) for earthly goods diminishes as man perfects himself; with God the principle reverses: the more man needs God, the more perfect he is.
Need (n.) understood as mere privation — scratching an itch in scabies — is need seen in a disorganized society that leaves it neither time nor consciousness.
Need (n.) are in my power: being cold, hungry, thirsty, naked — dependencies that have become needs — constitute me as the same, not as dependent on the other.
Need (n.) is an insinuation of essence through its own interstices, in which the lost plenitude is already rediscovered in the appetite and the taste for the search.
Need (n.) is something we love; man is glad to have needs. A being with none would not be happier — it would stand outside happiness and unhappiness altogether.
Need (n.) is admirably straightforward and impatient: it gives itself many possible meanings only to choose the one way of satisfaction — man gives being a single meaning by working it, not celebrating it.