The Weasel Under The Cocktail Cabinet.

No Matter How You Look At It, All The Emotions Connected With Love Are Not Really Immortal; Like All Other Passions In Life, They Are Bound To Fade At Some Point. The Trick Is To Convert Love Into Some Lasting Friendship That Overcomes The Fading Passion.

How Can The Unknown Merit Reverence?

I Never Think Of Myself As Wise. I Think Of Myself As Possessing A Critical Intelligence Which I Intend To Allow To Operate.

When The Storm Is Over And Night Falls And The Moon Is Out In All Its Glory And All You're Left With Is The Rhythm Of The Sea, Of The Waves, You Know What God Intended For The Human Race, You Know What Paradise Is.

Watching First Nights, Though I've Seen Quite A Few By Now, Is Never Any Better. It's A Nerve-racking Experience. It's Not A Question Of Whether The Play Goes Well Or Badly. It's Not The Audience Reaction, It's My Reaction. I'm Rather Hostile Toward Audiences—i Don't Much Care For Large Bodies Of People Collected Together. Everyone Knows That Audiences Vary Enormously; It's A Mistake To Care Too Much About Them. The Thing One Should Be Concerned With Is Whether The Performance Has Expressed What One Set Out To Express In Writing The Play. It Sometimes Does.