The Trouble Is If You

Rehearsing A Play Is Making The Word Flesh. Publishing A Play Is Reversing The Process.

He'll Be Delivered From Madness. What Then? He'll Feel Himself Acceptable! What Then? Do You Think Feelings Like His Can Be Simply Re-attached, Like Plasters? Stuck On To Other Objects We Select? Look At Him! ... My Desire Might Be To Make This Boy An Ardent Husband - A Caring Citizen - A Worshipper Of Abstract And Unifying God. My Achievement, However, Is More Likely To Make A Ghost!

Watching Italian Opera, All Those Male Sopranos Screeching, Stupid Fat Couples Rolling Their Eyes About. That's Not Love, It's Just Rubbish.

I Think People Nowadays Do Tend To Blame Their Parents For Everything.

I Was An Accomplice In My Own Frustration.