Life Consists Of Burning Up Questions.

Enough, I Shall Be Understood In Ten Years By People Who Will Be Doing What You Do Today. Then My Geysers Will Be Known, My Ice Floes Will Be Seen, The Secret Of Adulterating My Poisons Will Have Been Learned, The Games Of My Soul Will Be Revealed.

Cruelty In The Theatre Is Unrelenting Decisiveness, Diligence, Strictness.

Hell Is Of This World And There Are Men Who Are Unhappy Escapees From Hell, Escapees Destined Eternally To Reenact Their Escape.

It Is Not Opium Which Makes Me Work But Its Absence, And In Order For Me To Feel Its Absence It Must From Time To Time Be Present.

Excuse My Absolute Freedom. I Refuse To Make A Distinction Between Any Of The Moments Of Myself.