American playwright (1888-1959)
Now can it be men die and carry thence no memory of death, only this curious lightness of the hands, only this curious darkness of the mind, only to be still changeless with the winters passing; not gray, not lined, not stricken down, but stamped forever on the moving air, and echo and an image?
MAXWELL ANDERSON
High Tor
If you practice an art, be proud of it and make it proud of you.... It may break your heart, but it will fill your heart before it breaks it.
MAXWELL ANDERSON
attributed, Words of Wisdom
The dandelion. Where will you find another prodigal so merry or so golden or so wasteful, pouring out treasure down the sides of hills and cupping it in valleys?
MAXWELL ANDERSON
High Tor
This modern craze for biographical information leaves me cold for many reasons. For one thing, it's always inaccurate; for another, it's so bound up with publicity and other varieties of idiocy that it gags a person of any sensibility. For another, to be heralded is to become a candidate for the newest list of "the busted geniuses of yester-year" of whom I hope never to be one.
MAXWELL ANDERSON
letter in response to a request for an interview, The Players Magazine, 1959
The years are long, and full of sharp, wearing days
That wear out what we are and what we have been
And change us into people we do not know,
Living among strangers.
MAXWELL ANDERSON
Elizabeth the Queen