With society and its public, there is no longer any other language than that of bombs, barricades, and all that follows.
ANTONIN ARTAUDAll writing is garbage. People who come out of nowhere to try and put into words any part of what goes on in their minds are pigs.
More Antonin Artaud Quotes
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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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In consciousness dwells the wondrous, with it man attains the realm beyond the material, and the Peyote tells us, where to find it.
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Cruelty signifies rigor, implacable intention and decision, irreversible and absolute determination.
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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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Written poetry is worth reading once, and then should be destroyed. Let the dead poets make way for others.
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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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A tainted society has invented psychiatry to defend itself against the investigations of certain superior intellects whose faculties of divination would be troublesome.
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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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Actors are athletes of the heart.
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Without sarcasm I sink into chaos.
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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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The fixation of the theater in one language–written words, music, lights, noises–betokens its imminent ruin.
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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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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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We have the right to lie, but not about the heart of the matter.
ANTONIN ARTAUD