Bertolt Brecht
Bertolt Brecht
Eugen Bertolt Friedrich Brechtwas a German poet, playwright, and theatre director of the 20th century. He made contributions to dramaturgy and theatrical production, the latter through the tours undertaken by the Berliner Ensemble – the post-war theatre company operated by Brecht and his wife, long-time collaborator and actress Helene Weigel...
NationalityGerman
ProfessionPlaywright
Date of Birth10 February 1898
CityAugsburg, Germany
CountryGermany
Schoenberg is too melodious for me, too sweet.
Reality changes; in order to represent it, modes of representation must change.
What they could do with 'round here is a good war. What else can you expect with peace running wild all over the place? You know what the trouble with peace is? No organization.
When something seems ‘the most obvious thing in the world’ it means that any attempt to understand the world has been given up.
You can't write poems about trees when the woods are full of policemen.
Recently my fingers have developed a prejudice against comparatives. They all follow this pattern: a squirrel is smaller than a tree; a bird is more musical than a tree. Each of us is the strongest one in his or her own skin. Characteristics should take off their hats to one another, instead of spitting in each other's faces.
We attacked a foreign people and treated them like rebels. As you know, it's all right to treat barbarians barbarically. It's the desire to be barbaric that makes governments call their enemies barbarians.
Boy Meets Girl, So What?
Some party hack decreed that the people had lost the government's confidence and could only regain it with redoubled effort. If that is the case, would it not be be simpler, If the government simply dissolved the people And elected another?
When the leaders speak of peace The common folk know That war is coming When the leaders curse war The mobilization order is already written out. Every day, to earn my daily bread I go to the market where lies are bought Hopefully I take up my place among the sellers.
A man who sees another man on the street corner with only a stump for an arm will be so shocked the first time he'll give him sixpence. But the second time it'll only be a three penny bit. And if he sees him a third time, he'll have him cold-bloodedly handed over to the police.
People are too durable, that's their main trouble. They can do too much to themselves, they last too long.
Today every invention is received with a cry of triumph which soon turns into a cry of fear.
The mill wheel turns, it turns forever, though what is uppermost remains not so.