There Are Only Two Things

Im Not Suggesting That The Play Is Without Fault; All Of My Plays Are Imperfect, Im Rather Happy To Say-it Leaves Me Something To Do.

You...you've Been Here Quite A Long Time, Haven't You?" What? Oh...yes. Ever Since I Married What's-her-name. Uh, Martha. Even Before That. Forever. Dashed Hopes, And Good Intentions. Good, Better, Best, Bested. How Do You Like That For A Declension, Young Man?

A Rather Ugly Thing Starts Happening: The Playwright Finds Himself Knocked Down For Works That Quite Often Are Just As Good Or Better Than The Works He's Been Praised For Previously. And A Lot Of Playwrights Become Confused By This And They Start Doing Imitations Of What They've Done Before, Or They Try To Do Something Entirely Different, In Which Case They Get Accused By The Same Critics Of Not Doing What They Used To Do So Well.

You Gotta Have Swine To Show You Where The Truffles Are.

By Some Curious Mischance, A Couple Of My Plays Managed To Hit An Area Where Commercial Success Was Feasible. But It's Wrong To Think I'm A Commercial Playwright Who Has Somehow Ceased His Proper Function. I Have Always Been The Same Thing - Which Is Not A Commercial Playwright. I'm Not After The Brass Ring.