failure in the theater is more public, more brilliant, more unreal than in any other field.

Childhood is less clear to me than to many people: when it ended I turned my face away from it for no reason that I know about, certainly without the usual reason of unhappy memories. For many years that worried me, but then I discovered that the tales of former children are seldom to be trusted. Some people supply too many past victories or pleasures with which to comfort themselves, and other people cling to pains, real and imagined, to excuse what they have become.

It is a mark of many famous people that they cannot part with their brightest hour.

I like people who refuse to speak until they are ready to speak.

Cynicism is an unpleasant way of saying the truth.

My mother was dead for five years before I knew that I had loved her very much.

Guilt is often an excuse for not thinking.