It's interesting, isn't it? . . . the chandelier . . . it reminds me of mushroom soup.

It is, perhaps more than anything else, the arrest of time which has taken place in a completed work of art that gives certain plays their feeling of depth and significance.

The trouble with this world is that everybody has to compromise and conform.

When so many are lonely as seem to be lonely, it would be inexcusably selfish to be lonely alone.

The world is a funny paper read backwards. And that way it isn't so funny.

Man is by instinct a lover, a hunter, a fighter, and none of those instincts are given much play at the warehouse!

All good art is an indiscretion.