Politics (n.) begins with life exposed to death.
Politics (n.) secretly works towards the production of emergencies.
Politics (n.) became, quite literally, the decision about what is unpolitical — that is, about bare life.
Politics (n.) in the West has spent twenty-four centuries failing to heal the break between simple life and political life, between voice and language.
Politics (n.) exists because the human being is the animal that, in language, sets itself against its own bare life while never letting go of it.
Politics (n.) in the West is biopolitics from its origin: the decisive conflict, governing every other, is between the animality and the humanity of man.
Politics (n.) has been eclipsed by its contamination with law; the only truly political act is the one that cuts the bond between violence and law.
Politics (n.) and art are not tasks or works but the dimension where works are idled and contemplated, freeing the inoperativity locked up in them.
Politics (n.) and ontology need each other: if being is divided by language yet not torn apart, then a city, and not just a pasture for animals, can be founded on it.
Politics (n.) today can only take the form of an economy: the governance of empty speech over bare life, at a moment when all European languages seem condemned to swear in vain.
Politics (n.) is above all a special qualification of life, made by cuts through the living body — and that qualification has no content but the cut itself.
Politics (n.) treats a human life as if its thinking and feeling could be split off from its vegetative life — and so, since that is impossible in mortals, as something that may legitimately be killed.