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Danh ngôn của Jacques Derrida (Sứ mệnh: 9)

I wrote some bad poetry that I published in North African journals, but even as I withdrew into this reading, I also led the life of a kind of young hooligan.
The boarding-school experience in Paris was very hard, I didn't put up with it very well. I was sick all the time, or in any case frail, on the edge of a nervous breakdown.
The circle of the return to birth can only remain open, but this is a chance, a sign of life, and a wound.