“It’s strange, people have asked me what my schedule is and what is my process like, and I can’t even answer it.”

I think I’m a little more daunted by when the machinery of the play is really huge.

I know that they want certain things and they’re in a certain room and they smell like this and they look like that.

So I started to think like, “well if I’m going to fight against this, I should learn how to direct”.

I’ll take a break for a couple weeks for a project that is paying me money like a television project which I try to stay away from just to stay financially ahead of the game.

The scent goes right to your stomach.

You don’t really develop feelings about a place till you’ve left it. It’s like a girl or a dog.

I grew up eating hamburger helper, macaroni and cheese, and drinking lots of milk, and looked at lots of cows; but I feel like a New Yorker now, I’ve lived here for sixteen years.

When I got inside, I just sort of stood there. There’s nothing stranger than the smell of someone else’s house

Obviously the power of the Times is discouraging. It’s killing new plays, demolishing one after another.

When it’s just a few scenes and a couple of actors behaving in a room, I feel very confident with that.

A typical day for me is I’m writing when I’m not directing.

Mary’s house smelled like lemon furniture polish and oatmeal cookies and logs in a fireplace.

I would hope that the staffs at juvenile detention centers and reform schools are carefully chosen so that there is a community of support and hope.

You can always count on the New York Times to cut your legs off.

I appreciate good criticism and I think it’s really important.

You have to escape to survive, as you must survive to escape.

This is the case with thousands: they appear desirous of knowing the truth, but have not patience to wait in a proper way to receive an answer to their question.

You have to expose part of yourself to create a character deep enough for readers to care about.

When we’re not defending and justifying, and we’re being very still, our answers can and do shock us.

Who am I, and where am I going? You are the answer to this question. You are here to ask the question, and to be the answer.

Meditation and prayer have withstood the test of time. They work today as perfectly as they did for those who first practised and perfected them.

It was the grander French one: Why not kill yourself tonight? That the answers come to much the same thing in the end-easy does it

One of the reasons I’ve felt so connected to poetry throughout the years is because it’s the only art form that has breath built into it. And I need that breath now. I need that breath so much. So, yes, it is a refuge for me. Absolutely.

It is better to know some of the questions than all of the answers.