If I've been accused a number of times of writing plays where the endings are ambivalent, indeed, that's the way I find life.

Read the great stuff, but read the stuff that isn't so great, too. Great stuff is very discouraging. If you read only Beckett and Chekhov, you'll go away and only deliver telegrams for Western Union.

I am not interested in living in a city where there isn't a production by Samuel Beckett running.

Usually, the way I write is to sit down at a typewriter after that year or so of what passes for thinking, and I write a first draft quite rapidly. Read it over. Make a few pencil corrections, where I think I've got the rhythms wrong in the speeches, for example, and then retype the whole thing. And in the retyping I discover that maybe one or two more speeches will come in. One or two more things will happen, but not much.

I suspect that the theme, the nature of the characters, and the method of getting from the beginning of the play to the end is already established in the unconscious.

A lot interests me - but nothing surprises me particularly.

As a playwright, I imagine that in one fashion or another I've been influenced by every single play I've ever experienced.