Any definition which limits us is deplorable.

You're alive only once, as far as we know, and what could be worse than getting to the end of your life and realizing you hadn't lived it?

When a play enters my consciousness, is already a fairly well-developed fetus. I don't put down a word until the play seems ready to be written.

The playwright, along with any writer, composer, painter in this society, has got to have a terribly private view of his own value, of his own work. He's got to listen to his own voice primarily. He's got to watch out for fads, for what might be called the critical aesthetics.

Very few people who met my adoptive mother in the last 20 years of her life could abide her, while many people who have seen my play find her fascinating. Heavens, what have I done?!

If the work of art is good enough, it must not be criticized for its theme. I don't think it can be argued.

There are a number of contemporary playwrights whom I admire enormously, but that's not at all the same thing as being influenced.