We do not die because we have to die; we die because one day, and not so long ago, our consciousness was forced to deem it necessary.
ANTONIN ARTAUDLife consists of burning up questions.
More Antonin Artaud Quotes
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The truth of life lies in the impulsiveness of matter. The mind of man has been poisoned by concepts. Do not ask him to be content, ask him only to be calm, to believe that he has found his place. But only the madman is really calm.
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Cruelty signifies rigor, implacable intention and decision, irreversible and absolute determination.
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We have the right to lie, but not about the heart of the matter.
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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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I see in the act of throwing the dice and of risking the affirmation of some intuitively felt truth, however uncertain, my whole reason for living.
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How hard is it, when everything encourages us to sleep, though we may look about us with conscious, clinging eyes, to wake and yet look about us as in a dream, with eyes that no longer know their function and whose gaze is turned inward.
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You are quite unnecessary, young man!
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I call for actors burning at the stakes, laughing at the flames.
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There are those who go to the theatre as they would go to a brothel.
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Without sarcasm I sink into chaos.
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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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I would like to write a Book which would drive men mad, which would be like an open door leading them where they would never have consented to go, in short, a door that opens onto reality.
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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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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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All true language is incomprehensible, like the chatter of a beggar’s teeth.
ANTONIN ARTAUD