The Number (n.) derives its essence from psychology to the same extent as the North Sea derives its existence.
Number (n.) does not belong to what it counts: the ten is not equine, and the now is elsewhere, foreign to the time it numbers.
Number (n.) is the pure thought of thought's own externalization, the place where sense is brought closest to thought.
Number (n.) cannot be separated from air, of which it is the elemental column, nor from sperm, for which air makes room.
Number (n.) keeps its links with unlimited dissemination: of germs, of the crowd, of the people.
Number (n.) plays a reactive role: it squares off against the disseminal wandering it cannot hold, and breaks down in the attempt.
Number (n.) is the specter: it proliferates a priori, depriving each ghost of any place.