I abandon myself to the fever of dreams, in search for new laws.
ANTONIN ARTAUDTragedy on the stage is no longer enough for me, I shall bring it into my own life.
More Antonin Artaud Quotes
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The fixation of the theater in one language–written words, music, lights, noises–betokens its imminent ruin.
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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.
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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.
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I cannot conceive any work of art as having a separate existence from life itself.
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And if there is still one hellish, truly accursed thing in our time, it is our artistic dallying with forms, instead of being like victims burnt at the stake, signaling through the flames.
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I do not work within the confines of any realm. I work in the unique moment of duration.
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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.
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Leave the caves of being. Come. The mind breathes outside the mind. The time has come to abandon your lodgings. Surrender to the Universal Thought. The Marvelous is at the root of the mind.
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When we speak the word ‘life,’ it must be understood we are not referring to life as we know it from its surface of fact, but to that fragile, fluctuating center which forms never reach.
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Tragedy on the stage is no longer enough for me, I shall bring it into my own life.
ANTONIN ARTAUD -
In our present state of degeneration it is through the skin that metaphysics must be made to re-enter our minds.
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The true theater, because it moves and makes use of living instruments, continues to stir up shadows where life has never ceased to grope its way.
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We must wash literature off ourselves. We want to be men above all, to be human.
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No one has ever written, painted, sculpted, modeled, built, or invented except literally to get out of hell.
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There is in every madman a misunderstood genius whose idea, shining in his head, frightened people, and for whom delirium was the only solution to the strangulation that life had prepared for him.
ANTONIN ARTAUD