Amanda decided that if these people were God’s choice for instruments, then God was as crazy as Father Emil. - Nancy Kress

He introduced Marbet as “project psychologist.”
“I don’t believe in psychology,” Capelo said flatly.
Marbet remain unruffled. “Even that based on physiology?”
“If it’s based on chemistry, with replicable results from control experiments, then of course I believe in it. That’s science. Literary theories about the mind are not.”
“Ah,” Marbet said.
“Fairy tales, all. From Uncle Droselmeyer Freud to Lady Godiva Jennings, undressing some poor sap’s mind ‘consciousness layer’ by ‘consciousness layer.’ All for a large amount of money, of course.”

The real thing—that’s not what you want in the theater. Illusion, magic, imagination. What should have happened, not what did. Reality doesn’t make good theater.

She had to believe it; nothing else was bearable. Kaufman was looking at self-delusion in a character strong enough to elevate it to madness.