The process by which the idea for a play comes to me has always been something I really couldn't pinpoint. A play just seems to materialize; like an apparition, it gets clearer and clearer and clearer. It's very vague at first, as in the case of Streetcar, which came after Menagerie. I simply had the vision of a woman in her late youth. She was sitting in a chair all alone by a window with the moonlight streaming in on her desolate face, and she'd been stood up by the man she planned to marry.

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

I don't think there is such a thing as a precise sexual orientation. I think we're all ambiguous sexually.

All creative work, all life in a sense, is a cri de coeur.

Just another four-letter word.

I've got the guts to die. What I want to know is, have you got the guts to live?

If people behaved in the same way nations do they would all be put in straitjackets.