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Working in the theatre has a lot in common with unemployment.
Working in the theatre has a lot in common with unemployment.
I think I love and reverence all arts equally, only putting my
own just above the others; because in read more
I think I love and reverence all arts equally, only putting my
own just above the others; because in it I recognize the union
and culmination of my own. To me it seems as if when God
conceived the world, that was Poetry; He formed it, and that was
Sculpture; He colored it, and that was Painting; He peopled it
with living beings, and that was the grand, divine, eternal
Drama.
Like a dull actor now,
I have forgot my part, and I am out,
Even to a read more
Like a dull actor now,
I have forgot my part, and I am out,
Even to a full disgrace.
But as for all the rest,
There's hardly one (I may say none) who stands the Artist's test.
read more
But as for all the rest,
There's hardly one (I may say none) who stands the Artist's test.
The Artist is a rare, rare breed. There were but two, forsooth,
In all me time (the stage's prime!) and The Other One was Booth.
The play was a great success but the audience was a disaster.
The play was a great success but the audience was a disaster.
My mother wanted me to be a lawyer and I wanted to be an Actor. So I went to school, read more
My mother wanted me to be a lawyer and I wanted to be an Actor. So I went to school, majored in theatre, and said 'Mom, I have to choose my own destiny. I want to be an actor.' A couple of weeks after I graduated college I called my mother up and said 'Can I borrow $200?' and she said 'Why don't you act like you've got $200.'
You need three things in the theatre--the play, the actors and the audience,--and each must give something.
You need three things in the theatre--the play, the actors and the audience,--and each must give something.
As good as a play.
As good as a play.
It's very hard! Oh, Dick, my boy,
It's very hard one can't enjoy
A little private spouting;
read more
It's very hard! Oh, Dick, my boy,
It's very hard one can't enjoy
A little private spouting;
But sure as Lear or Hamlet lives,
Up comes our master, Bounce! and gives
The tragic Muse a routing.