Time rushes towards us with its hospital tray of infinitely varied narcotics, even while it is preparing us for its inevitably fatal operation.

• We are all sentenced to solitary confinement inside our own skins, for life.
• When so many are lonely as seem to be lonely, it would be inexcusably selfish to be lonely alone.
• All good art is an indiscretion.
• Time rushes towards us with its hospital tray of infinitely varied narcotics, even while it is preparing us for its inevitably fatal operation.
• Mendacity is a system that we live in. Liquor is one way out an death's the other.
• Death is one moment, and life is so many of them.
• Success and failure are equally disastrous.
• I have always been pushed by the negative. The apparent failure of a play sends me back to my typewriter that very night, before the reviews are out. I am more compelled to get back to work than if I had a success.
• The future is called 'perhaps,' which is the only possible thing to call the future. And the important thing is not to allow that to scare you.
• All of us are guinea pigs in the laboratory of God. Humanity is just a work in progress.