Perhaps the sad and empty language that today's flabby humanity pours forth, will, in all its horror, in all its boundless absurdity, re-echo in the heart of a solitary man who is awake, and then perhaps that man, suddenly realizing that he does not understand, will begin to understand.

A stage play ought to be the point of intersection between the visible and invisible worlds, or, in other words, the display, the manifestation of the hidden.

It is nasty when you're playing in someone else's house to point out that they don't have enough balls.

What is there? I know first of all that I am. But who am I? All I know of myself is that I suffer. And if I suffer it is because at the origin of myself there is mutilation, separation. I am separated. What I am separated from -- I cannot name it. But I am separated.

Misery's fine - as long as you know you can get out of it when you want to.

The only thing to know is how to use your neurosis.

I know I earn less at my primary school than you do, but I don't have to work as hard at my primary school.