Intermission
a creative coffee break from writing the play

I put all my genius into my life; I put only my talent into my works.

Born 152 years ago today.

When we were in Paris a few years ago, The Beloved and I paid homage to Oscar Wilde in Père Lachaise cemetary. These words are inscribed on his tombstone:

And alien tears will fill for him
Pity’s long-broken urn,
For his mourners will be outcast men,
And outcasts always mourn.

MBH insists the only perfect play ever written is The Importance of Being Ernest.