Life Is Generally Something That Happens Elsewhere.

What I'm Above All Primarily Concerned With Is The Substance Of Life, The Pith Of Reality. If I Had To Sum Up My Work, I Suppose That's It Really: I'm Taking The Pith Out Of Reality.

I Write Plays About Things That I Can't Resolve In My Mind. I Try To Root Things Out.

We Have Fish And Chips, Which W. And I Fetch From The Shop In Settle Market-place. Some Local Boys Come In And There Is A Bit Of Chat Between Them And The Fish-fryer About Whether The Kestrel Under The Counter Is For Sale. Only When I Mention It To W. Does He Explain Kestrel Is Now A Lager. I Imagine The Future Is Going To Contain An Increasing Number Of Incidents Like This, Culminating With A Man In A White Coat Saying To One Kindly, "and Now Can You Tell Me The Name Of The Prime Minister?"

Standards Are Always Out Of Date. That's What Makes Them Standards.

It's Subjunctive History. You Know, The Subjunctive? The Mood Used When Something May Or May Not Have Happened. When It Is Imagined.