Catastrophe, riots, factories blowing up, armies in flight, flood - the ear can detect a whole apocalypse in the starry night of the human body.

One is either judge or accused. The judge sits, the accused stands. Live on your feet.

The audience bursts into laughter. With the tragic gag I don't expect the audience to laugh (if they do, I have failed) but I expect a black silence from them that is almost as violent: as laughter.

Man seeks to escape himself in myth, and does so by any means at his disposal. Drugs, alcohol, or lies. Unable to withdraw into himself, he disguises himself. Lies and inaccuracy give him a few moments of comfort.

We must believe in luck. For how else can we explain the success of those we don't like?

Anything of any importance cannot help but be unrecognizable, since it bears no resemblance to anything already known.

The Louvre is a morgue; you go there to identify your friends.