Jodorowsky Quotes

Birds born in a cage think flying is an illness.

One day, someone showed me a glass of water that was half full. And he said, "Is it half full or half empty?" So I drank the water. No more problem.

Failure doesn't mean anything, it just means changing paths.

I don't live in France, I live in myself.

Awakening is not a thing. It is not a goal, not a concept. It is not something to be attained. It is a metamorphosis. If the caterpillar thinks about the butterfly it is to become, saying ‘And then I shall have wings and antennae,’ there will never be a butterfly. The caterpillar must accept its own disappearance in its transformation. When the marvelous butterfly takes wing, nothing of the caterpillar remains.

Most directors make films with their eyes; I make films with my testicles.

Let the inner god that is in each one of us speak. The temple is your body, and the priest is your heart: it is from here that every awareness must begin.

What I am trying to do when I use symbols is to awaken in your unconscious some reaction. I am very conscious of what I am using because symbols can be very dangerous. When we use normal language we can defend ourselves because our society is a linguistic society, a semantic society. But when you start to speak, not with words, but only with images, the people cannot defend themselves.

For a true artist, difficulties become opportunities and clouds become solid present.

El amor es un intercambio de silencios.

One does not go to the theater to escape from himself, but to reestablish contact with the mystery that we all are.

Cuando te acaricié me dí cuenta que había vivido toda mi vida con las manos vacías.

One becomes wise only in measures, as he goes through his own insanity.

God does not exist, God is not good. All that awaits us is the cat who will urinate on our grave.

You are engaging in madness. I feel obliged to accompany you.

If you are great, El Topo is a great picture. If you are limited, El Topo is limited.

The mole is an animal that digs passages searching for the sun. Sometimes he reaches the surface. When he looks at the sun he goes blind.

This is true freedom: to be capable of leaving ourselves, crossing the boundaries of our little world to open up the universe.

When you find love, real love, it’s like a catastrophe, like a tsunami. Like an earthquake, because all your individuality, all what you believed you are, it’s breaking. And you are completely another person. You never know what you were. And it’s a catastrophe –– but a good catastrophe, not a bad catastrophe.

El topo es un animal que cava galerías bajo la tierra buscando el sol y a veces su camino lo lleva a la superficie: cuando ve el sol, queda ciego.

You are excrement. You can change yourself into gold.

Es dificil que alguien te rompe el corazon. Generalmente eres tu mientras tratas de meterlo a la fuerza en donde sabes bien que no cabe

He who understands philosophy understands laughter. That mysterious Word at the beginning, mentioned in the Bible, is a divine guffaw.

Do not become attached to anything that can destroy you in the course of time.

Tal vez si prohibieran la literatura como la cocaína, la gente por puro morbo, buscaría meterse un par de líneas.

I want to show the world that it is possible. It's possible to remember your self. To open your mind. To open your heart. To open your creativity. To live with less, but to live well.

And I imagine... with great pleasure... all the horrible stirrings of the nonmanifested to bring forth the scream which creates the universe. Maybe one day I'll see you trembling, and you'll go into convulsion and grow larger and smaller until your mouth opens and the world will come from your mouth, escaping through the window like a river, and it will flood the city. And then we'll begin to live.

I am a victim. To be an artist is to be a victim, because if you don't do what you want to do you die. That is the reality.

No cuentes el tiempo sino tus transformaciones

During a party, Luis Buñuel, seduced by Carrington’s beauty and emboldened by the notion that she had transcended all bourgeois morality, proposed (with his characteristic bluntness) that she become his mistress. Without even waiting for her answer, he gave her the key to the secret studio that he used as a love nest and told her to meet him at three o’clock the next afternoon. Early the next morning, Leonora went to visit the place alone. She found it tasteless: It looked exactly like a motel room. Taking advantage of the fact that she was in her menstrual period, she covered her hands with blood and used them to make bloody handprints all over the walls in order to provide a bit of decoration for that anonymous, impersonal room. Buñuel never spoke to her again.

No sé adonde voy, pero sé con quién voy. No sé dónde estoy, pero sé que estoy en mi. No sé qué es Dios, pero Dios sabe lo que soy. No sé lo que es el mundo, pero sé que es mio. No sé lo que valgo, pero sé no compararme. No sé lo que es el amor, pero sé que gozo tu existencia. No puedo evitar los golpes, pero sé como resistirlos. No puedo negar la violencia, pero puedo negar la crueldad. No puedo cambiar al mundo, pero puedo cambiarme a mi mismo. No sé lo que hago, pero sé que lo que hago me hace. No sé quién soy, pero sé que soy el que no sabe.

If you want to draw some advantage from your history, you must accept not only this miracle but also many others. In memory, everything can become miraculous. All you have to do is wish it, and freezing winter turns into spring, miserable rooms fill up with golden tapestries, murderers turn good, and children who cry out of loneliness receive caring teachers who are really the children themselves moved back from adulthood to their early years. Yes, my daughter, the past is not fixed and unalterable. With faith and will we can change it, not erasing its darkness but adding lights to it to make it more and more beautiful, the way a diamond is cut.

The worst grotesque situations: believing one knows oneself, believing one knows everything about some topic, believing one has judged with absolute impartiality, believing one will love and be loved forever. In conversation, people think one thing and, in trying to communicate it, say something else. The interlocutor hears one thing, but understands something different. When answering, one does not respond to what the other person initially thought, nor to what the other person said, but to what one has understood. The final result: a conversation between deaf people who do not even know how to listen to themselves.

el ave del espiritu debe liberarse de la jaula racional

Soledad es no saber estar consigo mismo.

Te vas pero también aquí te quedas. Si las ramas crecen queriendo ocupar el cielo entero, las raíces nunca abandonan la tierra donde nacieron

Your true homeland is the universe. Your true goal is to be yourself Your true love is the love of life. Your true power is your powerto help. Your true happiness is to enjoy what you do. Your true work is to create beauty. Your true magic is to develop your attention. Your true social action is to liberate consciences. Your true discipline is to tame your ego. Your true truth "The others are also me

When the bullseye becomes as big as an elephant in your mind, you won’t be able to miss it.

... para que el hombre se haga luz, la mujer deberá enterrar su lámpara en las tinieblas" Donde Mejor Canta un Pájaro

I realized once again that what I believed myself to be was an arbitrary deformation, a rational mask floating in the infinite unexplored internal shadows. Later, I understood that diseases do not actually sicken us; they sicken what we believe ourselves to be. Health is achieved by overcoming prohibitions, quitting paths that are not right for us, ceasing to pursue imposed ideals, and becoming ourselves: the impersonal consciousness that does not define itself.

Sometimes in those moments of greatest abandonment when we feel utterly deserted a sign appears where we least expect it and shows us the way. Those who dare to advance into darkness, expecting nothing, will at last find their shining goal. On a page torn from a book, which an autumn wind blew around my feet, I read the words that showed me I was on the right path: “The initiate who sets out in good faith to find the Truth, only to find, on all sides, the inexorable barrier that throws him back into the ‘ordinary tumult,’ will hear the Master say: ‘Watch out, there is a wall.’ ‘But is this wall temporary?’ asks the restless soul, ‘can I pass through it or demolish it? Is it an adversary? Is it a friend?’ ‘I cannot tell you. You must discover it for yourself.

Birds that are born in cages live their entire lives dreaming of what the air feels like under their wings.

Ése es el grave problema de esta sociedad: está llena de deseos de consumir y de aparentar, pero hay muy pocas ganas de ser.

El error está permitido, siempre que se cometa una sola vez y dentro de una búsqueda sincera de conocimiento. Ésa es la condición humana: el hombre busca el conocimiento

El árbol decidió viajar. Cuando logró desprenderse de la tierra, se dio cuenta de que sus ramas eran raíces celestes.

La verdadera misión del arte es sanar, y sanar es descubrir la belleza de nuestra alma.

Life is a play. What matters is not that it lasts a long time but that it be well-acted.

The occultist G. I. Gurdjieff (1877–1949) demanded that a student, who was an inveterate smoker, quit smoking, and until he quit, Gurdjieff forbade any visit from him. The student fought for four years against the habit. When the student managed to overcome his habit, he very proudly presented himself in front of the teacher: “So! I quit smoking!” Gurdjieff responded, “Now, smoke!

I thought I was what I am, but in reality I’m still what I was. And that which I was, well, I don’t know what it is. Perhaps some day I will know. Then I’ll be what I shall be, but I’ll stop being what I am now. And ceasing to be what I am now horrifies and terrifies me. Help me, please, you two!

Miracles are like stones: they are everywhere, offering up their beauty, but hardly anyone concedes value to them. We live in a reality where prodigies abound but are seen only by those who have developed their perception of them. Without this perception everything is banal, marvelous events are seen as chance, and one progresses through life without possessing the key that is gratitude. When something extraordinary happens it is seen as a natural phenomenon that we can exploit like parasites, without giving anything in return. But miracles require an exchange; I must make that which is given to me bear fruit for others. If one is not united with oneself, the wonder cannot be captured. Miracles are never performed or provoked: they are discovered. If someone who believes himself to be blind takes off his dark glasses, he will see the light. That darkness is the prison of the rational.

De la realidad, misteriosa, tan vasta y imprevisible, no percibimos más que lo que se filtra a través de nuestro minúsculo punto de vista. La imaginación activa es la clave de una visión amplia, permite enfocar la vida desde puntos de vista que no son los nuestros, pensar y sentir a partir de diferentes ángulos. Ésa es la verdadera libertad: ser capaz de salir de uno mismo, atravesar los limites de nuestro pequeño mundo individual para abrirse al universo.

Although really society should not change, it should mutate. And, little by little, it is mutating... ... Society is like the body of a chicken: the chicken's foot is hard and insensitive while the eye is very alive. And there are beings who embody the cells of the eyes and others who embody the cells of the feet, of the wings, or of the anus.

Por primera vez descubrí la dulzura de ser yo mismo, sin estar deformado por el dolor o el miedo.

Lees mucho, tal vez un día cometas la estupidez de querer ser escritor.

Pássaros criados em gaiola acreditam que voar é uma doença

«Un día alguien te va a abrazar tan fuerte, que todas tus partes rotas se juntarán de nuevo», dijo Jodorowski.

My dancing is only entertainment for rich people who applaud as long as you don’t show them anything real. I mean, human misery and the industrial devastation of the planet. I’ve been training my entire life for an audience that requires beauty without truth. I’ve submerged myself in myself, becoming an island of form without mind, in an exhibition of naïve vanity. The

I had to first overcome the nightmares: my dreams were populated by menaces, shadows, murderous persecutions, disgusting events and objects, ambiguous sexual relations that excited me while also making me feel guilty. Here, I was a character inferior to my level of consciousness in the real world, capable of misdeeds that I would never have allowed myself to perpetrate while awake. I repeated many times, like a litany, “It is I who dream, just as it is I who am awake, and not a perverse and vulnerable child. The dreams happen in me; they are part of me. All that appears is myself. These monsters are aspects of me that have not been resolved. They are not my enemies. The subconscious is my ally. I must confront the terrible images and transform them.” I often had the same nightmare: I was in a desert, and a psychic entity determined to destroy me would come from the horizon as a huge cloud of negativity. I would wake up screaming and soaked in sweat. Now, tired of this undignified flight, I decided to offer myself in sacrifice. At the climax of the dream, in a state of lucid terror, I said, “Enough, I will stop wanting to wake up! Abomination, destroy me!” The entity approached threateningly. I stood still, calm. Then, the immense threat dissolved. I woke up for a few seconds, then peacefully went back to sleep. I realized it was I myself who had fed my terrors. I now knew that what terrifies us loses all its power in the moment that we stop fighting it. I began a long period during which whenever I had dreams, instead of running I would face my enemies and ask them what they wanted to tell me. Gradually, the images transformed before me and began to offer me presents: sometimes a ring, other times a golden sphere or a pair of keys. I now understood that just as every devil is a fallen angel, every angel is also a demon that has risen.

When a child is born in a jail and during their life all they know is the jail they were born into, the idea of freedom becomes so terrifying that they ridicule the very thought of being free, as a clinical illness. It is nothing like the song that a caged bird sings.

Once, Jodorowsky fired George Harrison from acting in The Holy Mountain because he’d backed out of the scene “when the thief shows his asshole and there is a hippopotamus.” Jodorowsky pleaded, “It would be a big, big lesson for humanity if you could finish with your ego and show your asshole!” but Harrison said no.

No quieres soltar la rabia ni los recuerdos dolorosos. Los acumulas en tus músculos en forma de contracciones que te dan la sensación de existir. Si los relajas, al desaparecer tu solicitud de ser amado, tus angustias de abandono o tus rencores, te sientes desaparecer. Crees, niño triste, que el sufrimiento es tu identidad.

I have an ambition to live 300 years. I will not live 300 years. Maybe I will live one year more. But I have the ambition. Why you will not have ambition? Why? Have the greatest ambition possible. You want to be immortal? Fight to be immortal. Do it. You want to make the most fantastic art or movie? Try. If you fail, is not important. We need to try.

Vamos en una cárcel racional que navega dentro de un loco.

El jardinero depravado pervertía a las flores acariciando sus cálices con una cinta de satín negro. El

Leaping is as beautiful as crawling: don’t compare yourself; develop your own values. Change your world or change worlds.

He’s going to give me a farewell kiss, but what good is it to me now when he never did it before. I would have preferred kisses that began something, not kisses that end things.

Si la vida te dio un don, tienes que devolverle a la vida un 10%.

La vergüenza es un orgullo disfrazado

El agua sucia puede apagar un incendio

Pasé de los insultos al silencio. Eran menos dolorosos los primeros.

Il pigro - Sapendo di essere nato per dare origine ad una farfalla, mentre gli altri si rinchiudevano in laboriosi e oscuri bozzoli, il verme si mise a saltare il più in alto possibile, credendo che così facendo avrebbe fatto uscire le ali con più facilità

French Impressionist artist Paul Gauguin would never have become Gauguin if he had not followed this principle. He was a bank employee for a good part of his life, until the day he decided he was an artist. That day he left the bank and became a genius painter.

This fear of dying would haunt me for the next forty years. It was an anguish that drove me to travel the world studying religions, magic, esotericism, alchemy, and the Kabbalah. It drove me to frequent initiatory groups, to meditate in the style of numerous schools, to seek out teachers, and in short wherever I went to search without limits for something that might console me in light of my transient existence. If I did not conquer death how could I live, create, love, prosper? I felt separated not only from the world but also from life. Those who thought they knew me only knew the makeup on a corpse. During those excruciating years, all the works I accomplished, as well as all my love affairs, were anesthetics to help me bear the anguish that gnawed at my soul. But in the depths of my being, in a hazy kind of way, I knew that this state of permanent agony was a disease that I had to cure by becoming my own therapist. At its heart, this was not about finding a magic potion to keep me from dying, but above all about learning to die with happiness.

If you do not tell me what is your purpose in life, I cannot heal you.” So I understood that if a ship crosses the sea without a purpose, it will arrive at no port. What prevents life from devouring us is having a purpose. The higher it is, the further it will carry us.

That is the marvel of true art, that no one has yet found a way to commercialize it. Man, when he achieves an adequate level of consciousness, feels the sacred in everything around him, and the world takes on this essence. The plants, the rocks, the joke: they are sacred; these things are consecrated.

I understand. Seraphim, I hope you know you have a great talent. You are a real artist. What you did in the dining room has a deep meaning. It is, no more or less than the very picture of life as it is lived by all of us poor mortals. We try to sweeten it, but the agreeable part stays on the outside because life is always bitter within.

Un samurái le pidió a su maestro que le explicara la diferencia entre el cielo y el infierno. Sin responderle, el maestro se puso a dirigirle gran cantidad de insultos. Furioso, el samurái desenvaino su sable para decapitarle. -He aquí el infierno- dijo el maestro antes que el samurái pasara a la acción. El guerrero impresionado por la respuesta del maestro se calmo al instante y volvió a enfundar el sable. Al hacer este último gesto, el maestro añadió: -He aquí el cielo.

Although often with good intentions, our parents and teachers attribute negative definitions to us, which last for many years and prevent us from developing ourselves with pleasure. In psychomagic, we call these definitions “labels” because they stick to the self. So that the consultant can free herself from them, I advise: ▶ The consultant writes on adhesive labels as many definitions as they gave her, for example: “You have no ear for music,” “You don’t know how to use your hands,” “You’re a freeloader, liar, thief,” “You’re egotistical, weak, dumb, fat, skinny, vain, ungrateful,” and so on. The consultant glues these labels to every part of the body— many of them to the face—and goes out in public that way for as many hours as possible. When the consultant returns home, she should remove the labels, roll them into a ball, take the ball to the city dump, and throw it on top of the garbage pile, having beforehand caressed her body with hands soaked in pleasant perfume.

At the time, I paid no heed to the emblem above the door of a compass crossed with a square; the library had been founded by Masons. There, in the quiet shadows, I read for hours from the books that the kind librarian allowed me to take from the shelves: fairy tales, adventure stories, adaptations of classics for children, and dictionaries of symbols. One day while browsing among the shelves I ran across a yellowed volume: Les Tarots by Eteilla. All my efforts to read it were in vain. The letters looked strange and the words were incomprehensible. I began to worry that I had forgotten how to read. When I communicated my anguish to the librarian, he began to laugh. “But how could you understand it; it’s written in French, my young friend! I can’t understand it either!” Oh, how I felt drawn to those mysterious pages! I flipped through them, seeing many numbers, sums, the frequent occurrence of the word Thot, some geometric shapes . . . but what fascinated me most was a rectangle inside which a princess, wearing a three-pointed crown and seated on a throne, was caressing a lion that was resting its head on her knees. The animal had an expression of profound intelligence combined with an extreme gentleness. Such a placid creature! I liked the image so much that I committed a transgression that I still have not repented: I tore out the page and brought it home to my room. Concealed beneath a floorboard, the card “STRENGTH” became my secret treasure. In the strength of my innocence, I fell in love with the princess.

Life is rich. If you carefully observe a meadow, you realize that each plant is a different color of green, each ladybug is different from the other. Many of us know the anecdote of the man who photographed snowflakes and discovered that each one was different: thousands of millions of snowflakes, each one with its own shape. That is to say, everything is variety, difference. But, at the same time, everything communicates; we are united by secret threads. Life is a miraculous creation. All of reality is a pure union of mental and emotional threads.

To, co nás zneklidňuje, je ve skutečnosti naše víra v 'objektivní' svět, naše moderní mentalita, která si říká racionální. Pořád se tváříme jako distancovaní pozorovatelé jevů, které pokládáme za vnější a jejichž fungování chceme zmapovat ve zřetelných obrysech. V rámci 'šamanské' mentality k podobným problémům vůbec nedochází. Nenacházíme tu ani pozorující subjekt, ani pasivní objekt - jediné, co existuje, je svět, sen plný hemžících se znaků a symbolů, pole vzájemných interakcí, kde se stýkají nejrůznější síly a vlivy. V takovém kontextu nezáleží na tom, jestli jsou operace staré léčitelky 'reálné', nebo ne.

The universe is changing, the universe is expanding. Everything is constantly changing. So when a human being remains unchanged, like a rock, clinging to what he or she is throughout an entire lifetime, it’s a tragedy. A human being has to be fluid, changing, expanding, developing, and at any given moment, has to ask, 'Why am I suffering? Why does this bother me? Why am I searching for something? Why do I hate such and such thing? Why can’t I forgive and why can’t I liberate myself from this?' All of my work is that, it’s the development of a character who slowly but surely expands, self-actualizes, and reaches a higher spiritual level. My characters obtain wisdom. To arrive at such wisdom is to arrive at the joy of living.

My son, you are what you are in the present. Leave the past behind; don’t carry blame. Eliminate all anxiety about the future. Prepare to work for your evolution until the last instant of your life. Let no one be your judge; be your own judge. If you want to triumph, learn to fail. Never define yourself by what you possess. Never speak about yourself without allowing yourself the possibility to change. Think that you do not exist individually, that what you do does itself. Only by accepting that nothing is yours will you be the owner of all. Become a total offering. Give, but oblige no one to receive. Make no one feel guilty; you are an accomplice to whatever happens. Stop asking for things and start thanking. Obtain in order to give away.

Do not worry,” the Rebbe told me, or rather I told myself using the image of that aged Jew who was dressed as a rabbi. “Loneliness means not knowing how to be with oneself.” Of course, I do not mean to imply that a child of seven years can speak in such a fashion. But I understood these things, albeit not in a rational manner. The Rebbe, being an internal image, put things into my mind that were not intellectual. He made me feel something that I swallowed, in the way that a newly hatched eaglet, its eyes still closed, swallows the worm that is placed in its beak. Much later as an adult I began to find words to translate things that were, at that young age—how can I explain it?—openings into other planes of reality. “You are not alone. Remember last week when you were surprised to see a sunflower growing in the courtyard? You concluded that the wind had blown a seed there. A seed, though it looks insignificant, contains the future flower. This seed somehow knew what plant it was going to be, and this plant was not just in the future: although immaterial, although only a design, the sunflower existed there, in that seed, blowing in the wind over hundreds of kilometers. And not only was the plant there, but also the love of light, the turning in search of the sun, the mysterious union with the pole star, and—why not?—a form of consciousness. You are not different. All that you are going to be, you are. What you will know, you already know. What you will search for, you are already seeking: it is in you. I may not be real, but the old man who you now see, although he has my inconsistent appearance, is real because he is you, which is to say, he is what you will be.

Bisabuelos, abuelos y padres se funden en nosotros tanto para lo mejor como para lo peor. Las fuerzas de repetición y de creación en su dinámica sin fin nos impulsan a la vez hacia la repetición de lo mismo y a acceder a lo que somos auténticamente. Los individuos, al mismo tiempo, pueden tener de sus bisabuelos, abuelos y padres una visión positiva y otra negativa, convirtiéndose de este modo cada familiar en una entidad doble: una luminosa y otra oscura. Dos campos de energía que a pesar de oponerse son complementarios. En el tiempo presente, el espíritu que se materializa colinda con la materia que se espiritualiza, el supraconsciente con el inconsciente, el intento de realizar el futuro con el intento de repetir el pasado, el ser esencial con el ser socio-cultural, el deseo de crear con el deseo de imitar. Al estudio del árbol genealógico bajo sus aspectos simultáneos y complementarios, tesoro y trampa, lo he llamado «Metagenealogía».

Naturally, without intending to, I transitioned from these dreams in which I healed myself to some in which I cared for others: I am flying over the Champs-Élysées Avenue in Paris. Below me, thousands of people are marching, demanding world peace. They carry a cardboard dove a kilometer long with its wings and chest stained with blood. I begin to circle around them to get their attention. The people, astonished, point up at me, seeing me levitate. Then I ask them to join hands and form a chain so that they can fly with me. I gently take one hand and lift. The others, still holding hands, also rise up. I fly through the air, drawing beautiful figures with this human chain. The cardboard dove follows us. Its bloodstains have vanished. I wake up with the feeling of peace and joy that comes from good dreams. Three days later, while walking with my children along the Champs-Élysées Avenue, I saw an elderly gentleman under the trees near the obelisk whose entire body was covered by sparrows. He was sitting completely still on one of the metal benches put there by the city council with his hand outstretched, holding out a piece of cake. There were birds flitting around tearing off crumbs while others waited their turn, lovingly perched on his head, his shoulders, his legs. There were hundreds of birds. I was surprised to see tourists passing by without paying much attention to what I considered a miracle. Unable to contain my curiosity, I approached the old man. As soon as I got within a couple of meters of him, all the sparrows flew away to take refuge in the tree branches. “Excuse me,” I said, “how does this happen?” The gentleman answered me amiably. “I come here every year at this time of the season. The birds know me. They pass on the memory of my person through their generations. I make the cake that I offer. I know what they like and what ingredients to use. The arm and hand must be still and the wrist tilted so that they can clearly see the food. And then, when they come, stop thinking and love them very much. Would you like to try?” I asked my children to sit and wait on a nearby bench. I took the piece of cake, reached my hand out, and stood still. No sparrow dared approach. The kind old man stood beside me and took my hand. Immediately, some of the birds came and landed on my head, shoulders, and arm, while others pecked at the treat. The gentleman let go of me. Immediately the birds fled. He took my hand and asked me to take my son’s hand, and he another hand, so that my children formed a chain. We did. The birds returned and perched fearlessly on our bodies. Every time the old man let go of us, the sparrows fled. I realized that for the birds when their benefactor, full of goodness, took us by the hand, we became part of him. When he let go of us, we went back to being ourselves, frightening humans. I did not want to disrupt the work of this saintly man any longer. I offered him money. He absolutely would not accept. I never saw him again. Thanks to him, I understood certain passages of the Gospels: Jesus blesses children without uttering any prayer, just by putting his hands on them (Matthew 19:13–15). In Mark 16:18, the Messiah commands his apostles, “They shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover.” St. John the Apostle says mysteriously in his first epistle, 1.1, “That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled, of the Word of life.

Why call something a play that’s based on a text?

For us, these five poets formed an alchemist mandala: Neruda was water, Parra air, de Rokha fire, Mistral earth, and Huidobro, in the center, quintessence.

Afirmo que después del alma humana los objetos más hermosos del Universo serán los navíos espaciales.

The consultant buys a bottle of fake blood at a theater supply store and once every lunar month, for four days, imitates having a period by putting some of this blood into the vagina and preventing it from gushing out by using a tampon. After repeating this for four months, the consultant’s period will return to normal.

Sueño Un grupo de ciegos, lanzando insultos, se golpean con sus bastones. Uno de ellos me quiere atacar. Le digo: «No es necesario que se pelee conmigo. Yo no soy ciego».

We may overindulge at times, but we then control ourselves and go back to a more moderate diet. There is a mudra that illustrates this situation quite well: “If the animal leaves the flock, I take it back to the flock. If it leaves again, I take it back again.” Spiritual

Oh, Buenos Aires, I have traveled around the world, but I’ve never been separated from you,” said Argentine poet Jorge Luis Borges. And Saint Thomas said, “A friendship that can end has never been a true friendship.” In

It’s not enough to quote someone; it’s important to specify what aspect of that person you’re referencing. Every time we talk about someone, we speak of that person as if our perception is the same for everyone. When

Stop daydreaming and listen to the story of how Benjamín lost all his hair. “One spring morning, a circus wagon painted like a carriage from the funeral parlor pulled by two skeletal horses decorated with black plumes passed along our street, heading for the town square. A man wearing a skeleton costume held the reins. Next to him sat a female dwarf dressed as the Angel of the Last Judgment, playing a sad melody on an old trumpet. Attracted by their sinister looks, we ran to see the performance.

In memory, everything can become miraculous. All you have to do is wish it, and freezing winter turns into spring, miserable rooms fill up with golden tapestries, murderers turn good, and children who cry out from loneliness receive compassionate teachers who are really the children themselves, sent back from adulthood to their early years. Yes, my daughter, the past is not fixed and unalterable. With faith and will we can change it, not erasing its darkness but adding light to make it more and more beautiful, the way a diamond is cut.

The worms have begun to eat the cheese, and no one can stop them. Production will not cease until the planet has completely deteriorated. Few will survive. In a near future, the poor will perhaps have better clothing, housing, and food, but they will still be poor. Which is to say, more and more in debt to power, if not paying with our blood and our lungs, then giving away something as precious as their laughter and their intelligence. The poor man will become a comfortable, serious fool. The obvious conclusion? The main thing is to survive! So that the total collapse of society doesn’t destroy us. But sit down, and let me explain.

Un cuchillo oxidado tiene fuerza doble: al mismo tiempo que corta, envenena.

Není možné ospravedlňovat věci skrze nějaký osud. Ano, jsme poznamenáni rodinnými, vzdělávacími, společensko-kulturními podmínkami. Je to něco, co si neseme s sebou už od narození, ale neznamená to, že bychom museli naplňovat jakýsi osud. Člověk vidí svět odlišným způsobem, pokud mluví anglicky, španělsky nebo francouzsky. Jsme vycvičeni kulturou, která formátuje náš mozek. Ale musíme s těmito danostmi zápasit, abychom mohli být sami sebou.

Yo era el que pensaba, ¿pero quién me pensaba? Yo era la conciencia, luego la conciencia de la conciencia, luego la conciencia de la conciencia de la conciencia...