I Myself Am An Absolute Abyss.

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.

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.

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.

The Fixation Of The Theater In One Language--written Words, Music, Lights, Noises--betokens Its Imminent Ruin.

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.