Here in my solitude, I have the feeling that I contain too much humanity. It oozes out of me like a broken tube of toothpaste; it doesn't want to sta… - Ingmar Bergman

Here, in my solitude, I have the feeling that I contain too much humanity.

I understand, all right. The hopeless dream of being - not seeming, but being. At every waking moment, alert. The gulf between what you are with others and what you are alone. The vertigo and the constant hunger to be exposed, to be seen through, perhaps even wiped out. Every inflection and every gesture a lie, every smile a grimace. Suicide? No, too vulgar. But you can refuse to move, refuse to talk, so that you don't have to lie. You can shut yourself in. Then you needn't play any parts or make wrong gestures. Or so you thought. But reality is diabolical. Your hiding place isn't watertight. Life trickles in from the outside, and you're forced to react. No one asks if it is true or false, if you're genuine or just a sham. Such things matter only in the theatre, and hardly there either. I understand why you don't speak, why you don't move, why you've created a part for yourself out of apathy. I understand. I admire. You should go on with this part until it is played out, until it loses interest for you. Then you can leave it, just as you've left your other parts one by one.

The world is a den of thieves, and night is falling. Evil breaks its chains and runs through the world like a mad dog. The poison affects us all. No one escapes. Therefore let us be happy while we are happy. Let us be kind, generous, affectionate and good. It is necessary and not at all shameful to take pleasure in the little world.

مرة أو مرتين في حياتي كلها روادتني فكرة الانتحار، وفي شبابي أقدمت على محاولة فاشلة، لكنني لم أنظر إليها بجدية. لقد كان فضولي عظيمًا وحبي للحياة قويًا وخوفي من الموت لا يتزعزع.

ومع ذلك فإن موقفي من الحياة يفترض وجود سيطرة مستمرة ولائقة على العلاقة بالواقع والتخيلات والأحلام. وعندما كانت تتعطل هذه السيطرة –وهو أمر لم يحدث لي من قبل حتى في طفولتي المبكرة- كانت انظمتي تصاب بالخلل وتتعرض هويتي للخطر، فأسمع صوت أنيني يشبه كلب جريح، نهضت من الكرسي وكنت على وشك أن أُلقي بنفسي من النافذة.