Power (n.) is not refused by saying yes to sex.
Power (n.) is productive: regulative strategies produce the subjects they come to subjugate.
Power (n.) is not an exchange between subject and Other but what produces the binary frame of subject and Other in the first place.
Power (n.) of a speaker is always derivative: whoever makes things happen by speaking was first enabled by having been addressed.
Power (n.) cannot stay in power without reproducing itself, and every act of reproduction risks going awry or adrift.
Power (n.) can be neither withdrawn nor refused, only redeployed — because it constrains and constitutes the very possibilities of volition.
Power (n.) does not act; there is only a reiterated acting that is power in its persistence and instability.
Power (n.) is a movement that arrests itself: a concatenation drawn from all the mobilities that then turns against them — perhaps by naming them.
Power (n.) in its everyday form categorizes the individual, attaches him to his own identity, and imposes a law of truth he must recognize and others must recognize in him.
Power (n.) should not be studied by asking 'Who has it and what has he in mind?' but at the point where its intention, if it has one, is wholly invested in its real practices.
Power (n.) works not only by producing but by foreclosing — producing an 'outside,' a domain of unlivability that bounds the intelligible.
Power (n.) has become so diffuse it no longer exists as a systematic totality — like Kafka's penal machine, whose parts don't fit into any conceivable whole and whose origins can't be recovered.
Power (n.) has no outside — one is in it even as one opposes it, formed by it as one reworks it — the condition of our partiality, our political unknowingness, and action itself.
Power (n.) is sometimes not had first and then acted upon; sometimes one acts, and in the acting lays claim to the power one requires — like squatters moving in to establish a right of residency.
Power (n.) in the linguistification of the political field has utterance not as its representation or epiphenomenon but as its very modus vivendi.
Power (n.) is not an institution, a structure, or a strength we are endowed with; it is the name one attributes to a complex strategical situation in a particular society.
Power (n.) unlike law is both prohibitive and inadvertently generative: its productions swerve from their purposes and expand what counts as intelligible.