Thought (n.) can never be perceived, nor can perception be thought: one is knowledge that places itself at once at the centre of its object, the other a multiplicity of appearances slowly serving its apprenticeship.
Thought (n.) can fully and exactly reach any object without the aid of an image — even an individual shade of blue in a painting in my room.
Thought (n.) affirms a quality of its object without realizing it on it; the image aims to produce its object — the function of the image is symbolic.
Thought (n.) stays safe among its images only if, like Gide ending The Counterfeiters, one can say 'could be continued' — affirming that the essence is in none of its forms, radically other.
Thought (n.) takes imaged form when it wants to see and possess its object — an attempt that always fails, because the object comes back stamped with irreality.
Thought (n.) once taken as something the I produces has already been turned into a passive state, an object.