The invention of film has given our generation the dubious advantage of watching our acting heroes deteriorate before our eyes.

The love that previously dared not speak its name has now grown hoarse from screaming it.

Theater going is a communal act, movie going a solitary one.

The commercial theatre may still be considered one of New York's primary tourist attractions, but . . . there is no longer an audience for serious Broadway plays. . . . Perhaps we should acknowledge that, having lost its traditional audience, Broadway can never again be a home for new plays.

Without an elite in the arts, we have no leaders, which is to say we have no vision, which is to say we have no arts.

The invention of film has given our generation the dubious advantage of watching our acting heroes deteriorate before our eyes.

On Laurence Olivier as Hamlet in a 1948 film: Olivier's idea of introspection was to hood his eyes, dentalize his consonants and let the camera circle his blondined head like a sparrow looking for a place to deposit its droppings.