A prayer for the wild at heart kept in cages.
In memory everything seems to happen to music.
All cruel people describe themselves as paragons of frankness.
The human animal is a beast that dies but the fact that he’s dying don’t give him pity for others.
Some mystery should be left in the revelation of character in a play, just as a great deal of mystery is always left in the revelation of character in life, even in one's own character to himself.
When I stop working the rest of the day is posthumous. I'm only really alive when I'm writing.