I Can Walk. It's Just That I'm

What She Was Finding Also Was How One Book Led To Another, Doors Kept Opening Wherever She Turned And The Days Weren't Long Enough For The Reading She Wanted To Do.

I Tried To Explain To Her The Significance Of The Great Poet, But Without Much Success, The Waste Land Not Figuring Very Largely In Mam's Scheme Of Things. "the Thing Is," I Said Finally, "he Won The Nobel Prize." "well," She Said, With That Unerring Grasp Of Inessentials Which Is The Prerogative Of Mothers, "i'm Not Surprised. It Was A Beautiful Overcoat."

I've Never Seen The Point Of The Sea, Except Where It Meets The Land. The Shore Has A Point. The Sea Has None.

An Article On Playwrights In The Daily Mail , Listed According To Hard Left, Soft Left, Hard Right, Soft Right And Centre. I Am Not Listed. I Should Probably Come Under Soft Centre.

I Write Plays About Things That I Can't Resolve In My Mind. I Try To Root Things Out.