Once you fully apprehend the vacuity of a life without struggle, you are equipped with the basic means of salvation.

Is a lifetime long enough to hold the regret that I have for that fantastically aborted but crazily sweet love affair?

If you can't be yourself, what's the point of being anyone else?

We are all sentenced to solitary confinement inside our own skins, for life.

What is the victory of a cat on a hot tin roof? - I wish I knew... Just staying on it, I guess, as long as she can.

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.

I don't ask for your pity, but just your understanding - no, not even that -no. Just for your recognition of me in you, and the enemy, time, in us all.