Life Consists Of Burning Up Questions.

A Real Theatrical Experience Shakes The Calm Of The Senses, Liberates The Compressed Unconscious And Drives Towards A Kind Of Potential Revolt . . .

We Must Believe In A Sense Of Life Renewed By The Theater, A Sense Of Life In Which Man Fearlessly Makes Himself Master Of What Does Not Yet Exist, And Brings It Into Being. And Everything That Has Not Been Born Can Still Be Brought To Life If We Are Not Satisfied To Remain Mere Recording Organisms.

The Idea Of A Detached Art, Of Poetry As A Charm Which Exists Only To Distract Our Leisure, Is A Decadent Idea And An Unmistakable Symptom Of Our Power To Castrate.

I Myself Am An Absolute Abyss.

So Society Has Strangled In Its Asylums All Those It Wanted To Get Rid Of Or Protect Itself From, Because They Refused To Become Its Accomplices In Certain Great Nastinesses.