Not One Of Us Can Lie Or

I Am An "unrealized" Character, Dramatically Speaking.

Blind Yourself, For I Am Blind.

Women Are Like Dreams, They Are Never The Way You Would Like To Have Them.

When The Characters Are Really Alive Before Their Author, The Latter Does Nothing But Follow Them In Their Action, In Their Words, In The Situations Which They Suggest To Him.

We're Like So Many Puppets Hung On The Wall, Waiting For Someone To Come And Move Us Or Make Us Talk.