Who Struggles Can Fail. Who Doesn't Struggle

When Crimes Begin To Pile Up They Become Invisible. When Sufferings Become Unendurable The Cries Are No Longer Heard. The Cries, Too, Fall Like Rain In Summer.

Sometimes I Have Visions Of Myself Driving Through Hell, Selling Sulphur And Brimstone, Or Through Heaven Peddling Refreshments To The Roaming Souls. If Me And The Children I've Got Left Could Find A Place Where There's No Shooting, I Wouldn't Mind A Few Years Of Peace And Quiet.

We Need A Type Of Theatre Which Not Only Releases The Feelings, Insights And Impulses Possible Within The Particular Historical Field Of Human Relations In Which The Action Takes Place, But Employs And Encourages Those Thoughts And Feelings Which Help Transform The Field Itself.

The Finest Plans Are Always Ruined By The Littleness Of Those Who Ought To Carry Them Out, For Emperor Himself Can Actually Be Nothing.

Suppose They Gave A War, And Nobody Came? Why Then, The War Would Come To You!