I See In The Act Of Throwing

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.

The Theatre Of Cruelty Has Been Created In Order To Restore To The Theatre A Passionate And Convulsive Conception Of Life, And It Is In This Sense Of Violent Rigour And Extreme Condensation Of Scenic Elements That The Cruelty On Which It Is Based Must Be Understood. This Cruelty, Which Will Be Bloody When Necessary But Not Systematically So, Can Thus Be Identified With A Kind Of Severe Moral Purity Which Is Not Afraid To Pay Life The Price It Must Be Paid.

Destroy Yourselves, You Who Are Desperate, And You Who Are Tortured In Body And Soul, Abandon All Hope. There Is No More Solace For You In This World. The World Lives Off Your Rotting Flesh.

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

If I Commit Suicide, It Will Not Be To Destroy Myself, But To Put Myself Back Together Again. Suicide Will Be For Me Only One Means Of Violently Reconquering Myself, Of Brutally Invading My Being, Of Anticipating The Unpredictable Approaches Of God. By Suicide, I Reintroduce My Design In Nature, I Shall For The First Time Give Things The Shape Of My Will.