And I will show you something different from either Your shadow at morning striding behind you Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you I will show you fear in a handful of dust

Hungry Hatred, will not strive against intelligence self-interest.

It's strange that words are so inadequate. Yet, like the asthmatic struggling for breath, so the lover must struggle for words.

Every end is a beginning...And every beginning is an end.

The Nobel is a ticket to one's own funeral. No one has ever done anything after he got it.

Playwriting gets into your blood and you can't stop it. At least not until the producers or the public tell you to.

And would it have been worth it, after all, Would it have been worth while, After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets, After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor - And this, and so much more? -