Nora A. Talor in 'Running the Earth: Jun Nguyen-Hatsushiba's Breathing is Free: 12,756.3' ( p. 209 )

"They played in the market squares, for the king, in the church, in the streams and for the village feast. It was a living tradition and was an integral part of the society.
Actors were seldom rich and it was a very risky profession where you had to work hard to survive. They had to be good at many different things - reciting texts, playing music, dance, doing acrobatics, juggling and much more. Because one day they had to play for the king who maybe would prefer a poetic text, and the following day they had to play in the market square where the comics and acrobats worked better.  
The same rules apply today. To do theatre and above all just to be able to live from it, you have to be good at many things. The body has to be like a sharp and keen tool.
I do not think that all the secrets of performing lie in this kind of theatre.
It is just one of the ways to make theatre. But I think it can help to strengthen the survival of and show new ways to use it.

The theatre must and can do something else than other artforms.

I want to trigger dreams in the audience by using the things that surround them.  I think it is interesting if I can make poetry and drama with a donkey, a few hay-packs and a milking cow and show a completely different face of theatre.

It is in the meeting that theatre arises, and without audience, theatre does not exist."

Kai Breiholdt
"Each of us is constituted … by virtue of the social vulnerability of our bodies - as a site of desire and physical vulnerability … at once assertive and exposed. … If I lose you, then I not only mourn the loss, but I become inscrutable to myself. … One does not always stay intact. … To be ec-static means, literally, to be outside oneself. … Let's face it. We're undone by each other. And if we're not, we're missing something."

Judith Butler, Precarious Life
It could be said: show me how you see Hamlet, and I will tell you who you are.

Ludwig Flazen in the chapter 'Hamlet in the Theatrical Laboratory' from Grotowski & Company (2010), p. 101

The East Wind by (1918) Charles Burchfield

 Eventually I could play from when I woke until the time I slept. I stopped playing the songs I knew and started inventing new ones. I had made up songs before, had even helped my father composa a verse or two. But now I gave it my whole attention. Some of those songs have stayed with me until this day.
        Soon after I began paying... how can I describe it?
        I began to play something other than songs. When the sun warms the grass and the breeze cools you, it feels a certain way. I would play until it sounded like Warm Grass and Cool Breeze.
I was only playing for myself, but I was a harsh audience. I remember spending nearly three whole days trying to capture Winds Turning Leaf.
        By the end of the second month, I could play things nearly as easily as I saw and felt them: Sun Setting Behind the Clouds, Bird Taking a Drink, Dew in the Bracken.
        Somewhere in the third month I stopped looking outside and started looking inside for things to play. I learned to play Riding in the Wagon with Ben, Singing with Father by the Fire, Watching Shandi Dance, Grinding Leaves When it Is Nice Outside, Mother Smiling. …
        Needless to say, playing these things hurt, but it was a hurt like tender fingers on lute strings. I bled a bit and hoped that I would callous soon.

The Name of the Wind (2007) by Patrick Rothfuss, p. 141