In the two or three or four months that it takes me to write a play, I find that the reality of the play is a great deal more alive for me than what passes for reality. I'm infinitely more involved in the reality of the characters and their situation than I am in everyday life. The involvement is terribly intense.

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.

Few sensible authors are happy discussing the creative process--it is, after all, black magic.

I think you remember everything ... you just can't bring it to mind all the time.

True, I don't begin with an idea for a play - a thesis, in other words, to construct the play around. But I know a good deal about the nature of the characters. I know a great deal about their environment. And I more or less know what is going to happen in the play.

Art has an obligation to offend

Sometimes it's necessary to go a long distance out of the way in order to come back a short distance correctly.