He Who Is Still Laughing Is He

Art Is Not A Mirror Held Up To Reality But A Hammer With Which To Shape It.

The First Time It Was Reported That Our Friends Were Being Butchered There Was A Cry Of Horror. Then A Hundred Were Butchered. But When A Thousand Were Butchered And There Was No End To The Butchery, A Blanket Of Silence Spread. When Evil-doing Comes Like Falling Rain, Nobody Calls Out "stop!" When Crimes Begin To Pile Up They Become Invisible. When Sufferings Become Unendurable The Cries Are No Longer Heard. The Cries, Too, Fall Like Rain In Summer.

Then I Will Tell You Something. I Do Not Believe In It. Forty Years Among Men Has Consistently Taught Me That They Are Not Amenable To Commonsense. Show Them The Red Tail Of A Comet, Fill Them With Black Terror, And They Will All Come Running Out Of Their Houses And Break Their Legs. But Tell Them One Sensible Proposition, And Support It With Seven Reasons, And They Will Simply Laugh In Your Face.

Don't Expect The Theatre To Satisfy The Habits Of Its Audience, But To Change Them.

From The Cradle To The Coffin Underwear Comes First.