The Very Impulse To Write

Today, [theatre's] More Likely To Be Consciously Not Aimed At The Public, But At A More Sophisticated Or Educated Public. . . . The Result Is That Some Of The Sheer Humanity Has Leaked Out Of The Enterprise.

I Am Bewildered By The Death Of Love. And My Responsibility For It.

Can Anyone Remember Love? It's Like Trying To Summon Up The Smell Of Roses In A Cellar. You Might See A Rose, But Never The Perfume.

Suicide Kills Two People.

Now Hell And Heaven Grapple On Our Backs And All Our Old Pretense Is Ripped Away. Aye, And God's Icy Wind Will Blow.