It is not the answer that enlightens, but the question.
The supreme trick of mass insanity is that it persuades you that the only abnormal person is the one who refuses to join in the madness of others, the one who tries vainly to resist. We will never understand totalitarianism if we do not understand that people rarely have the strength to be uncommon.
Why was I born, if it wasn't forever?
If one does not understand the usefulness of the useless and the uselessness of the useful, one cannot understand art.
All cats die. Socrates is dead. Therefore Socrates is a cat.
Ideologies separate us. Dreams and anguish bring us together.
Logic is a very beautiful thing. As long as it is not abused.
Theatre is simply what cannot be expressed by any other means; a complexity of words, movements, gestures that convey a vision of the world inexpressible in any other way.
God is dead. Marx is dead. And I don't feel so well myself.
Childhood is the world of miracle and wonder; as if creation rose, bathed in the light, out of the darkness, utterly new and fresh and astonishing. The end of childhood is when things cease to astonish us.
In the name of religion, one tortures, persecutes, builds pyres. In the guise of ideologies, one massacres, tortures and kills. In the name of justice one punishes...in the name of love of one's country or of one's race hates other countries, despises them, massacres them. In the name of equality and brotherhood there is suppression and torture. There is nothing in common between the means and the end, the means go far beyond the end...ideologies and religion... are the alibis of the means.
Realism falls short of reality. It shrinks it, attenuates it, falsifies it; it does not take into account our basic truths and our fundamental obsessions: love, death, astonishment. It presents man in a reduced and estranged perspective. Truth is in our dreams, in the imagination.
I've always been suspicious of collective truths. I think an idea is true when it hasn't been put into words and that the moment it's put into words it becomes exaggerated. Because the moment it's put into words there's an abuse, an excess in the expression of the idea that makes it false.
It isn't what people think that is important, but the reason they think what they think.
I've always been suspicious of collective truths.
Explanation separates us from astonishment, which is the only gateway to the incomprehensible.
Drama lies in extreme exaggeration of the feelings, an exaggeration that dislocates flat everyday reality.
No society has been able to abolish human sadness, no political system can deliver us from the pain of living, from our fear of death, our thirst for the absolute. It is the human condition that directs the social condition, not vice versa.
People always try to find base motives behind every good action. We are afraid of pure goodness and of pure evil.
Only the ephemeral is of lasting value.
It's not a certain society that seems ridiculous to me, it's mankind.
The human comedy does not attract me enough. I am not entirely of this world. I am from elsewhere, and it is worth finding this elsewhere beyond the walls...but where is it?
Dreams are reality at its most profound, and what you invent is truth because invention, by its nature, can't be a lie.
We are all looking for something of extraordinary importance whose nature we have forgotten; I am writing the memoirs of a man who has lost his memory.
Banality is a symptom of non-communication. Men hide behind their cliches.
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