I myself am an absolute abyss.
ANTONIN ARTAUDNo one has ever written, painted, sculpted, modeled, built, or invented except literally to get out of hell.
More Antonin Artaud Quotes
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Hell is of this world and there are men who are unhappy escapees from hell, escapees destined ETERNALLY to reenact their escape.
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The race of prophets is extinct. Europe is becoming set in its ways, slowly embalming itself beneath the wrappings of its borders, its factories, its law-courts and its universities. The frozen Mind cracks between the mineral staves which close upon it.
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Cruelty in the theatre is unrelenting decisiveness, diligence, strictness.
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Cruelty signifies rigor, implacable intention and decision, irreversible and absolute determination.
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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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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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The fixation of the theater in one language–written words, music, lights, noises–betokens its imminent ruin.
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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.
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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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Life consists of burning up questions.
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When I think about myself, my thought seeks itself in the ether of a new space. I am on the moon as others are on their balconies. I participate in planetary gravitation in the fissures of my mind.
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Don’t tire yourself more than need be, even at the price of founding a culture on the fatigue of your bones.
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[defines a madman as] a man who preferred to become mad,in the socially accepted sense of the word, rather than forfeit a certain superior idea of human honor.
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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.
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We have the right to lie, but not about the heart of the matter.
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