He was a boy, just a boy, when I was a very young girl. When I was sixteen, I made the discovery - love. All at once and much, much too completely. It was like you suddenly turned a blinding on something that had always been half in shadow, that's how it struck the world for me. But I was unlucky. Deluded.

Kill off all my demons and my angels might die too.

Things have a way of turning out so badly.

I believe the way to write a good play is to convince yourself it is easy to do, then go ahead and do it with ease.

Caged birds accept each other, but flight is what they long for.

Why is it so damn hard for people to talk?

Blanche: No, I have the misfortune of being an English instructor. I attempt to instill a bunch of bobby-soxers and drugstore Romeos with a reverence for Hawthorne and Whitman and Poe!