We Have The Right To Lie, But

And What Is An Authentic Madman? It Is A Man Who Preferred To Become Mad, In The Socially Accepted Sense Of The Word, Rather Than Forfeit A Certain Superior Idea Of Human Honor. 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. For A Madman Is Also A Man Whom Society Did Not Want To Hear And Whom It Wanted To Prevent From Uttering Certain Intolerable Truths.

If Our Life Lacks A Constant Magic It Is Because We Choose To Observe Our Acts And Lose Ourselves In Consideration Of Their Imagined Form And Meaning, Instead Of Being Impelled By Their Force.

I Do Not Work Within The Confines Of Any Realm. I Work In The Unique Moment Of Duration.

It Has Not Been Definitively Proved That The Language Of Words Is The Best Possible Language. And It Seems That On The Stage, Which Is Above All A Space To Fill And A Place Where Something Happens, The Language Of Words May Have To Give Way Before A Language Of Signs Whose Objective Aspect Is The One That Has The Most Immediate Impact Upon Us.

How Hard Is It, When Everything Encourages Us To Sleep, Though We May Look About Us With Conscious, Clinging Eyes, To Wake And Yet Look About Us As In A Dream, With Eyes That No Longer Know Their Function And Whose Gaze Is Turned Inward.