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 ARTAUDCruelty in the theatre is unrelenting decisiveness, diligence, strictness.
More Antonin Artaud Quotes
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We have the right to lie, but not about the heart of the matter.
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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.
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If our life lacks a constant magic it is because we choose to observe our acts and lose ourselves in consideration of their imagined form and meaning, instead of being impelled by their force.
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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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By suicide I introduce my design in nature, I shall for the first time give things the shape of my will … now I choose the direction of my thought and the direction of my faculties, my tendencies, my reality.
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I call for actors burning at the stakes, laughing at the flames.
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A real theatrical experience shakes the calm of the senses, liberates the compressed unconscious and drives towards a kind of potential revolt.
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This is why true beauty never strikes us directly. The setting sun is beautiful because of all it makes us lose.
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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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I abandon myself to the fever of dreams, in search for new laws.
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If I commit suicide, it will not be to destroy myself but to put myself back together again.
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Tragedy on the stage is no longer enough for me, I shall bring it into my own life.
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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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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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I prefer the people who eat off the bare earth the delirium from which they were born.
ANTONIN ARTAUD