“Because no retreat from the world can mask what is in your face.”

“Your true face... What kind of... face is it? I wonder... The face under the mask... Is that... your true face?”

“I like the masks; because the real face of the mask is again itself!”

“It was a dance of masks and every mask was perfect because every mask was a real face and every face was areal mask so there was no mask and there was no face for there was but one dance in which there was butone mask but one true face which was the same and which was a thing without a name which changed andchanged into itself over and over.”

“It was too late to retreat - the world exists only because it is always too late to retreat.”

“That’s what violence was: emotion leaking out from consciousness into the physical world, linking up with the muscles of the arms and shoulders and diaphragm and, inevitably, the face. Stifle emotion during an act of violence and the face becomes a blank, unreadable mask.”