In Spain, The Dead Are

I Put My Head Out Of My Window And See How Much The Wind’s Knife Wants To Slice It Off. On This Unseen Guillotine, I’ve Placed The Eyeless Head Of All My Desires.

Men Like To Pleasure Us, Girl. They Like To Undo Our Plaits And Give Us Water To Drink From Their Own Mouths. That's What Makes The World Go Round.

Understand One Single Day Fully, So You Can Love Every Night.

The Theater Has To Impose Itself On The Public, And Not The Public On The Theater... The Word "art" Should Be Written Everywhere, In The Auditorium And In The Dressing Rooms, Before The Word "business" Gets Written There.

The Duende....where Is The Duende? Through The Empty Archway A Wind Of The Spirit Enters, Blowing Insistently Over The Heads Of The Dead, In Search Of New Landscapes And Unknown Accents: A Wind With The Odour Of A Child's Saliva, Crushed Grass, And Medusa's Veil, Announcing The Endless Baptism Of Freshly Created Things.