“Just think of an old manuscript, with oily pages, in a
corner of a drawer… a comedy, for example. The manager of the theater, in
trouble, discovers it, and reads… reads… snaps his fingers… “This is really good!”…
And suddenly, there you have on stage a living icon of life… the public laughs, the
actors make faces, and all these like it had been before… of a hundred years. Then you’d
want to say that either the public or the theater is two hundred years old, or
that the script is new. Where’s the time? When you reverse the binocular,
everything seems to be at an abnormal distance… Someone born with a binocular
on his nose would run all his life after his nose to reach it, and this would
be very natural… Where’s space? That’s why when we hear the horn of truth,
which presents itself with so much self-consciousness, we should smile and
say: It’s only words! words! words! Let’s listen tales, for they at least make
us live the life of other people, make us blend our dreams and thoughts with
theirs… Archaeus lives in them… Tales might be the most beautiful part of the
human life. Our world is enchanting us with tales, with tales it makes us
sleep. We wake up and we die with them…”
