We Haven't The Time To Take Out

To Tear Ourselves Away From The Everyday, From Habit, From Mental Laziness Which Hides From Us The Strangeness Of Reality, We Must Receive Something Like A Real Bludgeon Blow.

In The History Of Humanity There Are No Civilizations Or Cultures Which Fail To Manifest, In One Or A Thousand Ways, This Need For An Absolute That Is Called Heaven, Freedom, A Miracle, A Lost Paradise To Be Regained, Peace, The Going Beyond History... There Is No Religion In Which Everyday Life Is Not Considered A Prison; There Is No Philosophy Or Ideology That Does Not Think That We Live In Alienation.... Humanity Has Always Had A Nostalgia For The Freedom That Is Only Beauty, That Is Only Real; Life, Plenitude, Light.

If I Write A New Play, My Point Of View May Be Profoundly Modified. I May Be Obliged To Contradict Myself And I May No Longer Know Whether I Still Think What I Think.

Childhood Is The World Of Miracle And Wonder; As If Creation Rose, Bathed In The Light, Out Of The Darkness, Utterly New And Fresh And Astonishing. The End Of Childhood Is When Things Cease To Astonish Us.

The Brightest Light, The Light Of Italy, The Purest Sky Of Scandinavia In The Month Of June Is Only A Half-light When One Compares It To The Light Of Childhood. Even The Nights Were Blue.