Radio is truly the theater of the mind. The listener constructs the sets, colors them from his own palette, and sculpts and costumes the characters who perform in them.

I lose all control after two drinks of anything

I've always had bronchitis. I've been administered the Sacrament of Death three times for it

I am responsible for no one but myself.

I can choose to accelerate my disease to an alcoholic death or incurable insanity, or I can choose to live within my thoroughly human condition.

While I am rehearsing a play, I try to read nothing that might distract my concentration from the work in progress.

With two leftover husbands to account for, my wicked soul has just about shriveled and died