Im Not Suggesting That The

In The Two Or Three Or Four Months That It Takes Me To Write A Play, I Find That The Reality Of The Play Is A Great Deal More Alive For Me Than What Passes For Reality. I'm Infinitely More Involved In The Reality Of The Characters And Their Situation Than I Am In Everyday Life. The Involvement Is Terribly Intense.

The Greatest Problem With Irish Wolfhounds, Though, Is That They Don't Live Very Long: Their Great Hearts Give Out. A Good Deal Of This Is Genetic, Of Course, But I Think It Is In Part That They Worry So For Us, Care So Much.

If You Examine The History Of Any Playwright Of The Past Twenty - Five Or Thirty Years - I'm Not Talking About The Comedy Boys, I'm Talking About The More Serious Writers - It Seems Inevitable That Almost Every One Has Been Encouraged Until The Critics Feel That They Have Built Them Up Beyond The Point Where They Can Control Them; Then It's Time To Knock Them Down Again.

Audiences And, To A Large Extent, Critics Who Want Less From Theater Than It Is Possible For It To Give. If Everybody's Encouraged To Want Less, You'll End Up With Less.

My Sense Of Reality And Logic Is Different From Most People's.