If we could wake each morning with no memory Of living before we went to sleep, we might Arrive at a faultless day, once in a great many.

In my plays I want to look at life-at the commonplace of existence-as if we had just turned a corner and run into it for the first time.

Day's work is still to do, Whatever the day's doom.

What, after all, is a halo? It's only one more thing to keep clean.

Life itself is the real and most miraculous miracle of all. If one had never before seen a human hand and were suddenly presented for the first time with this strange and wonderful thing, what a miracle, what a magnificently shocking and inexplicable and mysterious thing it would be.

Poetry is the language in which man explores his own amazement.