Don’t look forward to the day you stop suffering, because when it comes you’ll know you’re dead.
Life is all memory, except for the one present moment that goes by you so quickly you hardly catch it going.
Yes, I have tricks in my pocket, I have things up my sleeve. But I am the opposite of a stage magician. He gives you illusion that has the appearance of truth. I give you truth in the pleasant disguise of illusion.
You can be young without money but you can’t be old without it.
Snatching the eternal out of the desperately fleeting is the great magic trick of human existence.
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.
Jim lights a cigarette and leans indolently back on his elbow smiling at Laura with a warmth and charm which lights her inwardly with altar candles.
To change is to live, to live is to change, and not to change is to die.
Take by surprise and the world gives up resistance.
The only thing worse than a liar is a liar that’s also a hypocrite!
The human animal is a beast that dies but the fact that he’s dying don’t give him pity for others.
There comes a time when you look into the mirror and you realize that what you see is all that you will ever be. And then you accept it. Or you kill yourself. Or you stop looking in mirrors.
You are the only young man that I know of who ignores the fact that the future becomes the present, the present the past, and the past turns into everlasting regret if you don’t plan for it.
The scene is memory and is therefore nonrealistic. Memory takes a lot of poetic license. It omits some details; others are exaggerated, according to the emotional value of the articles it touches, for memory is seated predominantly in the heart.
At the age of fourteen I discovered writing as an escape from a world of reality in which I felt acutely uncomfortable.
All good art is an indiscretion.
I try to work every day because you have no refuge but writing. When you’re going through a period of unhappiness, a broken love affair, the death of someone you love, or some other disorder in your life, then you have no refuge but writing.
Security is a kind of death.
The object of art is to make eternal the desperately fleeting moment.
Kill off all my demons and my angels might die too.