Hell Is Of This World

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.

Theater Of Cruelty Means A Theater Difficult And Cruel For Myself First Of All. And, On The Level Of Performance, It Is Not The Cruelty We Can Exercise Upon Each Other By Hacking At Each Other’s Bodies, Carving Up Our Personal Anatomies, Or, Like Assyrian Emperors, Sending Parcels Of Human Ears, Noses, Or Neatly Detached Nostrils Through The Mail, But The Much More Terrible And Necessary Cruelty Which Things Can Exercise Against Us. We Are Not Free. And The Sky Can Still Fall On Our Heads. And The Theater Has Been Created To Teach Us That First Of All.

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.

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.

So Long As We Have Failed To Eliminate Any Of The Causes Of Human Despair, We Do Not Have The Right To Try To Eliminate Those Means By Which Man Tries To Cleanse Himself Of Despair.