Life Consists Of Burning Up Questions.

Enough, I Shall Be Understood In Ten Years By People Who Will Be Doing What You Do Today. Then My Geysers Will Be Known, My Ice Floes Will Be Seen, The Secret Of Adulterating My Poisons Will Have Been Learned, The Games Of My Soul Will Be Revealed.

Written Poetry Is Worth Reading Once, And Then Should Be Destroyed. Let The Dead Poets Make Way For Others.

Excuse My Absolute Freedom. I Refuse To Make A Distinction Between Any Of The Moments Of Myself.

The Actor Is Merely A Crude Empiricist, A Practitioner Guided By Vague Instinct.

I Am Adding Another Language To The Spoken Language, And I Am Trying To Restore To The Language Of Speech Its Old Magic, Its Essential Spellbinding Power, For Its Mysterious Possibilities Have Been Forgotten.