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Odets understood his inner demon, which brought about the struggle of his temperament and conscience. He dramatized it in his last plays, Clash by Night, The Country Girl, The Big Knife, and The Flowering Peach. But he is also there in Lorna's description of Joe Bonaparte, the cockeyed golden boy, …

[...] Baby seemed beside himself; he was biting into doughnuts, picking at raisins, licking syrups, plastering himself all over and leaving sticky marks on the showcases and counters. He found that he no longer had any desire for cakes—in fact a feeling of nausea was beginning to creep up from the …

Baby, meanwhile, in order to have both hands free, had constructed a kind of lampshade from tray cloths and pieces of nougat. He then espied some large cakes with "Happy Birthday" written on them. He circled them, studying the plan of attack; first he reviewed them with a finger and licked off a bi…

"There isn't time for cakes," said Dritto, pushing him aside. "We've got to hurry." And he went ahead, twisting the beam of his flashlight around in the dark. Everywhere it touched it lit up rows of shelves, and on the shelves rows of trays, and on the trays rows of cakes of every conceivable shape…

frank (beginning to undress -- putting his coat on the back of a chair) No, I'm tired. I'll see you in the morning, before I leave.

Carp: Going away again?

Frank: South. Tex-tiles. There's hell down there in tex-tiles. (He sits on the other side of the room and looks at a paper.)

Carp: I d…