Abstract
Of course, ‘bien sur’ . . . Derrida would never have found the time to finish anything, to get to the end of anything, to see anything through properly, to do what he would have wanted to do. But perhaps the time that he would never have had was only one kind: the philosophical kind, the kind we are aware of as distinctively human. Perhaps there is another time, animal and poetic, which he did find. The paragraph from L’animal que donc je suis (The Animal That Therefore I am) of which I have quoted the first sentence continues thus:
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