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Kindle Notes & Highlights
The word “definitive” has no place in artistic or literary discussions. There is no such thing as a “definitive” biography, any more than there can be a “definitive” piano concerto or a “definitive” apple by Cézanne.
The delirious sense of accomplishment is nonetheless the high that we in the theater—any theater—are constantly chasing, the reason we’re going through all this hell in the first place: to make strangers laugh or cry. Nothing is more important to us. To outsiders, such a goal may seem absurd, puerile, incomprehensible—but only because they haven’t inhaled the opium of a smash.
