Origin (n.) is a problematic concept because there is always more than one source. It redoubles and pluralizes itself, so in the end you have no source at all.
An Origin (n.) is never simple, and every question about it carries a metaphysics of presence.
An Origin (n.) is nothing but the myth of addition: supplementarity annulled by being declared purely additive.
An Origin (n.) is never simple: the commencement is already the beginning of a degeneration.
The Origin (n.) passes and never properly takes place: we are always short of it or beyond it, and it is always as if I had committed incest.
The Origin (n.) is conceivable only in disguise, and the work is the disguising of its origin.
The Origin (n.) dissimulates itself immediately beneath the new domain it uncovers.
The Origin (n.) runs a strange motion: the further one departs from it, the more one comes back to a nature that has not yet awakened to speech.
The Origin (n.) is only a result: a rebound that returns the beginning to what it produced.
The Origin (n.) is imaginary; the source is the fact within which the imaginary is proposed, where water wells up.
The Origin (n.) is constituted only on the rebound from the duplication in which alone it can arise.
The Origin (n.) is suspended by a multiple punctuation, and you are plunged at once into the consumption of another text.