Actors Are Athletes Of The Heart.

I Destroy Because For Me Everything That Proceeds From Reason Is Untrustworthy. I Believe Only In The Evidence Of What Stirs My Marrow, Not In The Evidence Of What Addresses Itself To My Reason. I Have Found Levels In The Realm Of The Nerve. I Now Feel Capable Of Evaluating The Evidence. There Is For Me An Evidence In The Realm Of Pure Flesh Which Has Nothing To Do With The Evidence Of Reason. The Eternal Conflict Between Reason And The Heart Is Decided In My Very Flesh, But In My Flesh Irrigated By Nerves.

I Know Each Conversation With A Psychiatrist In The Morning Made Me Want To Hang Myself Because I Knew I Could Not Strangle Him.

It Is Almost Impossible To Be A Doctor And An Honest Man, But It Is Obscenely Impossible To Be A Psychiatrist Without At The Same Time Bearing The Stamp Of The Most Incontestable Madness: That Of Being Unable To Resist That Old Atavistic Reflex Of The Mass Of Humanity, Which Makes Any Man Of Science Who Is Absorbed By This Mass A Kind Of Natural And Inborn Enemy Of All Genius.

Admittedly Or Not, Conscious Or Unconscious, The Poetic State, A Transcendent Experience Of Life, Is What The Public Is Fundamentally Seeking Through Love, Crime, Drugs, War, Or Insurrection.

Cruelty In The Theatre Is Unrelenting Decisiveness, Diligence, Strictness.