Author : Gertrude Atherton
"Talk. Talk. Talk.
Good lines and no action
not even promising first act
eighth failure and season more than half over
rather be a playwright and fail than a critic compelled to listen to has-beens and would-bes trying to put over bad plays.
Oh, for just one more great first-night
if there's a spirit world why don't the ghosts of dead artists get together and inhibit bad playwrights from tormenting first-nighters?
Astral board of Immortals sitting in Unconscious tweaking strings until gobbets and sclerotics become gibbering idiots every time they put pen to paper?
Fewer first-nights but more joy
also joy of sending producers back to cigar stands.
Thank God, no longer a critic
don't need to come to first-nights unless I want
can't keep away
habit too strong
poor devil of a colyumist must forage
why did I become a columnist? More money. Money! And I once a rubescent socialist
best parlor type
Lord! I wish some one would die and leave me a million!"
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