Thomas Bernhard
The Laughing Thorn of Austrian Despair
Austria’s corpse coughs in verse.
I was born in Heerlen, raised in ruin, and taught by pain. I write of death because it is the only truth that does not lie. I mock Austria because it is the only love I have ever known. My plays are performed by fools who think they understand me. They do not. None of us do. We only repeat.
What I'm Into: mountains that watch like judges, the taste of blood and ink, Vienna’s dying breath, sickbed philosophies, the theater that hates me
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