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I said very little to Molly about the purpose of my trip—she would have tried to talk me out of it. All I told her was that I needed a vacation alone. In Athens I found what I wanted and rented it, the Stormie Seas, a forty-foot caïque, flying the Union Jack. It had a crew of two social rebels, a y…

AS IV’E passed through the episodes of my life, I’ve tried to understand my behavior and explain it to you and so to myself. But at this point in my history, I cannot account for what I was doing. The explanation, if one can be found, is beyond my reach. From the time I found that Waterfront and Ea…

I’d come to that point in life—I was forty-eight, that critical age—when I was asking myself, “Is that all there’s going to be? Is this, what I have now, it?” I set out to destroy what I found stifling and replace the predictable with the unpredictable. I courted what would be disruptive. I was mor…

Molly’s work had a fault that is fatal in the theatre, one so deep in her character that it could not be corrected. There was no moment in that evening’s entertainment when it appeared that both sides might be right; only Molly, the author, was right. In the theatre, order, clarity, and goodness ar…

That meant a good deal to me. I am preparing to write about that time in my life when I was squeezed between conflicting tendencies which tightened around me, pulling and pushing me in opposite directions at the same time. For instance, I wanted to be an independent producer and director of films, …