When The Guns Roar, The Arts Die.

But We Are Mostly What We Are, And The Turtle Stretching Toward Delicious Buds On High Does Not Lighten His Carapace By His Resolve.

The Success Of A Play, Especially One's First Success, Is Somewhat Like Pushing Against A Door Which Is Suddenly Opened That Was Always Securely Shut Until Then. For Myself, The Experience Was Invigorating. It Suddenly Seemed That The Audience Was A Mass Of Blood Relations, And I Sensed A Warmth In The World That Had Not Been There Before. It Made It Possible To Dream Of Daring More And Risking More.

An Era Can Be Said To End When Its Basic Illusions Are Exhausted.

I Speak My Own Sins; I Cannot Judge Another. I Have No Tongue For It.

He's Liked, But He's Not Well Liked.