The Theatre Is The Involuntary Reflex Of

What Would Life Be Without Art? Science Prolongs Life. To Consist Of What-eating, Drinking, And Sleeping? What Is The Good Of Living Longer If It Is Only A Matter Of Satisfying The Requirements That Sustain Life? All This Is Nothing Without The Charm Of Art.

Slow Down? Rest? With All Eternity Before Me?

New Ideas Come Into This World Somewhat Like Falling Meteors, With A Flash And An Explosion, And Perhaps Somebody's Castle-roof Perforated.

I Have, Thanks To My Travels, Added To My Stock All The Superstitions Of Other Countries. I Know Them All Now, And In Any Critical Moment Of My Life, They All Rise Up In Armed Legions For Or Against Me.

You Must Have This Charm To Reach The Pinnacle. It Is Made Of Everything And Of Nothing, The Striving Will, The Look, The Walk, The Proportions Of The Body, The Sound Of The Voice, The Ease Of The Gestures. It Is Not At All Necessary To Be Handsome Or To Be Pretty; All That Is Needful Is Charm.