I think a playwright must be his own dramaturg.

The only riots were the people trying to get tickets.

You don't push the button that says "Now I will write something that resonates in time." You don't know. It's what happens after a play is finished.

There's no American playwright after 1945 who wasn't profoundly affected - who didn't have their DNA changed by Tennessee Williams.

And it is always Easter Sunday at the New York City Ballet. It is always coming back to life. Not even coming back to life - it lives in the constant present.

Oh god, I'd just hate it if a certain dramaturg got a hold of a Pinter play, for example, which are all mystery and all music. That's how the life get's sucked out of plays.

It's amazing how a little tomorrow can make up for a whole lot of yesterday.