“The announcement we were going to a play threw me into a fever; in advance, I speculated everything that might happen; I learned by heart the names of the singers; the night before, I couldn’t sleep; I boiled with anticipation the entire day; yet little by little, as the hour approached, hints of bitterness began to mix with my joy and as soon as the curtain raised a great part of my pleasure collapsed for I foresaw that in just a short time the play would be finished; I considered it virtually finished by the very virtue of beginning. It is the same today for all of my pleasures, as they bring me instantly to think of death, and as I watch a play, I cannot recall these childhood miseries without needing to suppress a desire to cry.”—Michel Leiris