Comedy (n.) has in its vis comica the most dangerous weapon, entrusted only to one with a corresponding pathos — the most annihilating comic has indignation latent in it, unseen for laughter; indignation without vis comica falls into declamation and becomes comic itself.
Comedy (n.) and tragedy are the two legs needed by one who would exist by virtue of spirit; with only one leg, however great a genius, he is ridiculous — and disproportion is lameness, bow-leggedness, club-footedness.
Comedy (n.) is where a man belongs who lives by the rule that he is no criminal, though not pure either — he should be extradited from religion and handed over to the comic.
Comedy (n.) gives its heroine pathos whose content is nonsense, passion whose content is unreal, enthusiasm whose content is nothing — she will sacrifice everything for nothing.
Comedy (n.) makes a situation more absorbing than tragedy does — the tragic lets contemplation rest in sadness, while in the comic reflection keeps moving, and the more it discovers, the dizzier one becomes; yet one cannot stop gazing.
Comedy (n.) is hide-and-seek where what is hidden is nonsense; hide something related to the idea and you come near a tragic hero.