Arthur Miller
Arthur Miller
Arthur Asher Millerwas a prolific American playwright, essayist, and prominent figure in twentieth-century American theatre. Among his most popular plays are All My Sons, Death of a Salesman, The Crucibleand A View from the Bridge. He also wrote several screenplays and was most noted for his work on The Misfits. The drama Death of a Salesman is often numbered on the short list of finest American plays in the 20th century alongside Long Day's Journey into Night and A Streetcar...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPlaywright
Date of Birth17 October 1915
CityNew York City, NY
CountryUnited States of America
All we are is a lot of talking nitrogen.
A suicide kills two people, Maggie, that's what it's for!
They're worried about the Harvard trademark, and they seem to be saying I'm diluting it by allowing some of my materials to be used at Concord Law School, Concord University. Curiously, they never said that when I was identified for 20-odd years on Good Morning America as Harvard Law School.
A lot of my work goes to the center of where we belong -- if there is any root to life -- because nowadays the family is broken up, and people don't live in the same place for very long
A man is not an orange. You can't eat the fruit and throw the peel away
A playwright . . . is . . . the litmus paper of the arts. He's got to be, because if he isn't working on the same wave length as the audience, no one would know what in hell he was talking about. He is a kind of psychic journalist, even when he's gre
There is an open terror of the critics (in New York) and of losing fortunes of money
If you don't put something away in some type of investment plan that has restrictions, the money will probably disappear because if it's in our hot hands, it tends to get spent.
He's a man way out there in the blue, riding on a smile and a shoeshine. And when they start not smiling back - that's an earthquake . . . A salesman is got to dream, boy. It comes with the territory.
The shadow of a cornstalk on the ground is lovely, but it is no denial of its loveliness to see as one looks on it that it is telling the time of day, the position of the earth and the sun, the size of our planet and its shape, and perhaps even the length of its life and ours among the stars.
Poor brain! How helplessly it dissolves when willing eyes meet and the nose warms to those old jungle scents.
A character is defined by the kinds of challenges he cannot walk away from. And by those he has walked away from that cause him remorse.
Memory inevitably romanticizes, pressing reality to recede like pain.
What work you do! It's strange work for a Christian girl to hang old women!