No one has ever written, painted, sculpted, modeled, built, or invented except literally to get out of hell.
Antonin ArtaudHow 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.
Antonin ArtaudTags: theater
All writing is filth
Antonin ArtaudTags: writing
I cannot conceive any work of art as having a separate existence from life itself
Antonin ArtaudFor nothing bestializes a being like the taste for eternal happiness, the search for eternal happiness at any price, and mademoiselle Lucifer is that slut who never wanted to abandon eternal happiness.
Antonin ArtaudI call for actors burning at the stakes, laughing at the flames.
Antonin ArtaudI 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.
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.
Antonin ArtaudAll writing is rubbish.
People who try to free themselves from what is vague in order to state precisely whatever is going on in their minds are producing rubbish.
The whole literary tribe is a pack of rubbish mongers, especially today.
All those who have landmarks in their minds, I mean in a certain part of their heads, in well-defined sites in their skulls, all those who are masters of language, all those for whom words have meaning, all those for whom the soul has its heights and thought its currents, those who are the spirits of the times, and who have given names to these currents of thought—I am thinking of their specific tasks, and of that mechanical creaking their minds produce at every gust of wind—are rubbish mongers.
Tags: the-theatre-and-its-double
In our present state of degeneration it is through the skin that metaphysics must be made to re-enter our minds.
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