When the drama attains a characterization which makes the play a revelation of human conduct and a dialogue which characterizes yet pleases for itself, we reach dramatic literature.
The wrong things are predominantly stressed in the schools – things remote from the student’s experience and need.
People seldom see the halting and painful steps by which the most insignificant success is achieved.
Drama read to oneself is never drama at its best, and is not even drama as it should be.
An artist cannot fail; it is a success to be one.
We also maintain – again with perfect truth – that mystery is more than half of beauty, the element of strangeness that stirs the senses through the imagination.
A woman’s beauty is one of her great missions.
Youth, however, can afford to enjoy even its melancholy; for the ultimate fact of which that melancholy is a prophecy is a long way off.
Rare is the human being, immature or mature, who has never felt an impulse to pretend he is some one or something else.