When so many are lonely as seem to be lonely, it would be inexcusably selfish to be lonely alone.
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.
We all live in a house on fire, no fire department to call; no way out, just the upstairs window to look out of while the fire burns the house down with us trapped, locked in it.
Only some radical change can divert the downward course of my spirit, some startling new place or people to arrest the drift, the drag.
I think that hate is a feeling that can only exist where there is no understanding.
I’ve got the guts to die. What I want to know is, have you got the guts to live?
The Venus flytrap, a devouring organism, aptly named for the goddess of love.
I always said little Truman had a voice so high it could only be detected by bats.
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.
People go to the movies instead of moving. Hollywood characters are supposed to have all the adventures for everybody in America, while everybody in America sits in a dark room and watches them have them.
I believe that the silence of God, the absolute speechlessness of Him is a long, long, and awful thing that the whole world is lost because of.
Being a memory play, it is dimly lighted, it is sentimental. It is not realistic.
Girls that aren’t cut out for business careers usually wind up married to some nice man.
Like a Cat on a hot tin roof.
Oh, Jacques, we’re used to each other, we’re a pair of captive hawks caught in the same cage, and so we’ve grown used to each other. That’s what passes for love at this dim, shadowy end of the Camino Real.
But since I have a poet’s weakness for symbols, I am using this character also as a symbol; he is the long-delayed but always expected something that we live for.
Things have a way of turning out so badly.
Nothing’s more determined than a cat on a hot tin roof...
Hysteria is a natural phenomenon, the common denominator of the female nature. It’s the female weapon and the test of a man is his ability to cope with it.
Devils can be driven out of the heart by the touch of a hand on a hand, or a mouth on a mouth.