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A child's spirit is like a child, you can never catch it by running after it; you must stand still, and, for love, it will soon itself come back. |
Children; Love; Spirit |
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A good newspaper, I suppose, is a nation talking to itself. |
Uncategorized |
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A lot of my work goes to the center of where we belong -- if there is any root to life -- because nowadays the family is broken up, and people don't live in the same place for very long |
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A man is not an orange. You can't eat the fruit and throw the peel away |
Men |
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A play is made by sensing how the forces in life simulate ignorance-you set free the concealed irony, the deadly joke. |
Irony; Play |
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A playwright . . . is . . . the litmus paper of the arts. He's got to be, because if he isn't working on the same wave length as the audience, no one would know what in hell he was talking about. He is a kind of psychic journalist, even when he's gre |
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A playwright lives in an occupied country. And if you can't live that way you don't stay. |
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A suicide kills two people, Maggie, that's what it's for! |
Killing; Suicide |
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An era can be said to end when its basic illusions are exhausted |
Uncategorized |
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Betrayal is the only truth that sticks. |
Betrayal |
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By whatever means it is accomplished, the prime business of a play is to arouse the passions of its audience so that by the route of passion may be opened up new relationships between a man and men, and between men and Man. Drama is akin to the other |
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Can anyone remember love? It's like trying to summon up the smell of roses in a cellar. You might see a rose, but never the perfume. |
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Certainly the most diverse, if minor, pastime of literary life is the game of Find the Author. |
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Don't be seduced into thinking that that which does not make a profit is without value. |
Uncategorized |
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Everybody likes a kidder, but nobody lends him money. |
Money |
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He wants to live on through something-and in his case, his masterpiece is his son. all of us want that, and it gets more poignant as we get more anonymous in this world. |
Fathers; Living |
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He's a man way out there in the blue, riding on a smile and a shoeshine. And when they start not smiling back - that's an earthquake . . . A salesman is got to dream, boy. It comes with the territory. |
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