I Was Brought Up In The War.

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

I Saw Len Hutton In His Prime, Another Time, Another Time.

I Think We Communicate Only Too Well, In Our Silence, In What Is Unsaid, And That What Takes Place Is A Continual Evasion, Desperate Rearguard Attempts To Keep Ourselves To Ourselves. Communication Is Too Alarming. To Enter Into Someone Else's Life Is Too Frightening. To Disclose To Others The Poverty Within Us Is Too Fearsome A Possibility.

I Know Little Of Women. But I've Heard Dread Tales.

Occasionally It Does Hit Me, The Words On A Page. And I Still Love Doing That, As I Have For The Last 60 Years.