Actors Between Plays Are Like

During The Act Of Writing I Have Told Myself Something That I Didn't Know I Knew.

What Did A Few Ripples In The Flesh Matter When, All Too Soon, Now Or Later, That Flesh Would Be Making Its Return Journey To Dust?

I Believe That With Enough Practice And Good Faith, You Can Learn To Recognize When The Work Is Achieved.

Who Wanted To Creep Along In Comfort When There Was One Chance In A Thousand Of Flying?

Actors Between Plays Are Like Ghosts Looking For Bodies To Inhabit.