I would love to spend all my time writing to you; I'd love to share with you all that goes through my mind, all that weighs on my heart, all that gives air to my soul; phantoms of art, dreams… — Luigi Pirandello Copy Share Image
Our spirits have their own private way of understanding each other, of becoming intimate, while our external persons are still trapped in the commerce of ordinary words, in the slavery of social rules. Souls have their own needs and their… — Luigi Pirandello Copy Share Image
When a character is born, he acquires at once such an independence, even of his own author, that he can be imagined by everybody… — Luigi Pirandello Copy Share Image
“The capacity for deluding ourselves that today's reality is the only true one, on the one hand, sustains us, but on the other, it… — Luigi Pirandello Copy Share Image
Inevitably we construct ourselves. Let me explain. I enter this house and immediately I become what I have to become, what I can become:… — Luigi Pirandello Copy Share Image
THE FATHER: But don't you see that the whole trouble lies here? In words, words. Each one of us has within him a whole… — Luigi Pirandello Copy Share Image
If we have no other reality beyond the illusion, you too must not count overmuch on your reality as you feel it today, since,… — Luigi Pirandello Copy Share Image
“This is the real drama for me; the belief that we all, you see, think of ourselves as one single person: but it's not… — Luigi Pirandello Copy Share Image
Each of us, face to face with other men, is clothed with some sort of dignity, but we know only too well all the… — Luigi Pirandello Copy Share Image
Those who understood, in fact, say: 'I mustn't do this, I mustn't do that,' so as not to commit some stupidity or other! Splendid!… — Luigi Pirandello Copy Share Image
“Voi credete di conoscervi se non vi costruite in qualche modo? E ch'io possa conoscervi, se non vi costruisco a modo mio? E voi… — Luigi Pirandello Copy Share Image
Here is a piece of earth. If you stand staring at it and doing nothing, what does the earth yield? Nothing. Just like a… — Luigi Pirandello Copy Share Image
