Before You Fall Asleep Everyday, Say Something

It's Not Till Sex Has Died Out Between A Man And A Woman That They Can Really Love. And Now I Mean Affection. Now I Mean To Be Fond Of (as One Is Fond Of Oneself) --to Hope, To Be Disappointed, To Live Inside The Other Heart.

After Forty Years Of Marriage We Still Stood With Broken Swords In Our Hands.

The Theatre Is A Gross Art, Built In Sweeps And Over-emphasis. Compromise Is Its Second Name.

Dead News Like Dead Love Has No Phoenix In Its Ashes.

Isn't The Fear Of Pain Next Brother To Pain Itself?