My Plays Are Made Up Of Long

Eroding Solidarity Paradoxically Makes A Society More Susceptible To The Construction Of Substitute Collectives And Fascisms Of All Kinds.

Strictly Speaking, There Are No Holidays For Art; Art Pursues You Everywhere, And That's Just Fine With The Artist.

Only He Who Loves And Is Loved For His Own Sake Can Be Happy, And What Produces That Happiness Is Not So Much The Sense Of Sexual Communion As Of Two People Being Together ... The Sexual Act Viewed As A Whole Probably Affords Less Happiness Than A Totally Ordinary Kiss Or Often Indeed One Simple Word From The One You Love.

Work Restores Humankind And All Its Attributes To The Savage Animal Condition That Was Its Original Intended State.

It Could Draw From A Greater Reservoir Of Freedom. The Irony Could Develop An Even Greater Ease.