Those Who Live, Live Off The Dead.

Before Our Eyes Is Fought A Battle Of Symbols... For There Can Be Theatre Only From The Moment When The Impossible Really Begins And When The Poetry That Occurs On The Stage Sustains And Superheats The Realized Symbols.

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.

There Are Souls That Are Incurable And Lost To The Rest Of Society. Deprive Them Of One Means Of Folly, They Will Invent Ten Thousand Others. They Will Create Subtler, Wilder Methods, Methods That Are Absolutely Desperate. Nature Herself Is Fundamentally Antisocial, It Is Only By A Usurpation Of Powers That The Organized Body Of Society Opposes The Natural Inclination Of Humanity.

There Is In Every Madman A Misunderstood Genius Whose Idea, Shining In His Head, Frightened People, And For Whom Delirium Was The Only Solution To The Strangulation That Life Had Prepared For Him.

This Is Why True Beauty Never Strikes Us Directly. The Setting Sun Is Beautiful Because Of All It Makes Us Lose.