I Don't Think There's Been Any Writer

There Are Places In My Heart...where No Living Soul...has...or Can Ever...trespass.

There's A Tradition In British Intellectual Life Of Mocking Any Non-political Force That Gets Involved In Politics, Especially Within The Sphere Of The Arts And The Theatre.

I Tend To Think That Cricket Is The Greatest Thing That God Ever Created On Earth - Certainly Greater Than Sex, Although Sex Isn't Too Bad Either.

Do The Structures Of Language And The Structures Of Reality (by Which I Mean What Actually Happens) Move Along Parallel Lines? Does Reality Essentially Remain Outside Language, Separate, Obdurate, Alien, Not Susceptible To Description? Is An Accurate And Vital Correspondence Between What Is And Our Perception Of It Impossible? Or Is It That We Are Obliged To Use Language Only In Order To Obscure And Distort Reality -- To Distort What Happens -- Because We Fear It?

I Thought The Plays Would Speak For Themselves. But They Didn't.