We are all of us born, live and die in the shadow of a giant question mark that refers to three questions: Where do we come from? Why? And where, oh where, are we going!

The only unforgivable sin is deliberate cruelty.

When I had that attack of pleurosis -- he asked me what was the matter when I came back. I said pleurosis -- he thought that I said Blue Roses! So that's what he always called me after that. Whenever he saw me, he'd holler, Hello, Blue Roses!

Openings come quickly, sometimes, like blue space in running clouds. A complete overcast, then a blaze of light.

What shouldn't you do if you're a young playwright? Don't bore the audience! I mean, even if you have to resort to totally arbitrary killing on stage, or pointless gunfire, at least it'll catch their attention and keep them awake. Just keep the thing going any way you can.

A vacuum is a hell of a lot better than some of the stuff that nature replaces it with.

Physical beauty is passing -- a transitory possession -- but beauty of the mind, richness of the spirit, tenderness of the heart -- I have all these things -- aren't taken away but grow! Increase with the years!

Go, then! Go to the moon-you selfish dreamer!

Make voyages! Attempt them. There's nothing else.

Morning can always be counted on to bring us back to a more realistic level.

The strongest influences in my life and my work are always whomever I love. Whomever I love and am with most of the time, or whomever I remember most vividly. I think that's true of everyone, don't you?

He was a boy, just a boy, when I was a very young girl. When I was sixteen, I made the discovery -- love. All at once and much, much too completely. It was like you suddenly turned a blinding on something that had always been half in shadow, that's how it struck the world for me. But I was unlucky. Deluded.

Since that day, when people have spoken to me of genius, I have felt the inside pocket to make sure my wallet's still there.

What's talent but the ability to get away with something?

When I stop working the rest of the day is posthumous. I'm only really alive when I'm writing.

There is a time for departure even when there's no certain place to go.

The theatre is a place where one has time for the problems of people to whom one would show the door if they came to one's office for a job.

I know I fib a good deal. After all, a woman's charm is fifty per cent illusion, but when a thing is important I tell the truth. -- Blanche Scene II.

It's like a switch, clickin' off in my head. Turns the hot light off and the cool one on, and all of a sudden there's peace.

In memory everything seems to happen to music.