All Writing Is Garbage. People Who Come

It Is Not A Certain Conformity Of Manners That The Painting Of Van Gogh Attacks, But Rather The Conformity Of Institutions Themselves. And Even External Nature, With Her Climates, Her Tides, And Her Equinoctial Storms, Cannot, After Van Gogh's Stay Upon Earth, Maintain The Same Gravitation.

Tragedy On The Stage Is No Longer Enough For Me, I Shall Bring It Into My Own Life.

I Do Not Like Detached Creation. Neither Can I Conceive Of The Mind As Detached From Itself. Each Of My Works, Each Diagram Of Myself, Each Glacial Flowering Of My Inmost Soul Dribbles Over Me.

To Break Through Language In Order To Touch Life Is To Create Or Re-create The Theater.

I Am A Man By Virtue Of My Hands And My Feet, My Belly, My Heart Of Meat, My Stomach Whose Knots Reunite Me To The Putrefaction Of Life.