A good actor must never be in love with anyone but himself.

A good actor must never be in love with anyone but himself.

Tom Goodwin was an actor-man,
Old Drury's pride and boast,
In all the light and spritely parts,
read more

Tom Goodwin was an actor-man,
Old Drury's pride and boast,
In all the light and spritely parts,
Especially the ghost.

Like a dull actor now,
I have forgot my part, and I am out,
Even to a read more

Like a dull actor now,
I have forgot my part, and I am out,
Even to a full disgrace.

Prologues like compliments are loss of time;
'Tis penning bows and making legs in rhyme.

Prologues like compliments are loss of time;
'Tis penning bows and making legs in rhyme.

To grasp the full significance of life is the actor's duty, to interpret it is his problem, and to express read more

To grasp the full significance of life is the actor's duty, to interpret it is his problem, and to express it his dedication.

My mother wanted me to be a lawyer and I wanted to be an Actor. So I went to school, read more

My mother wanted me to be a lawyer and I wanted to be an Actor. So I went to school, majored in theatre, and said 'Mom, I have to choose my own destiny. I want to be an actor.' A couple of weeks after I graduated college I called my mother up and said 'Can I borrow $200?' and she said 'Why don't you act like you've got $200.'

Someone who's like Angelina Jolie because she isn't scared of not being pretty. She's my favourtie actress. I'd love a read more

Someone who's like Angelina Jolie because she isn't scared of not being pretty. She's my favourtie actress. I'd love a role like the one she played in 'Girl, Interrupted'. I've never met her.. I'd be so nervous! And star-struck!

Like hungry guests, a sitting audience looks;
Plays are like suppers; poets are the cooks.
The founder's read more

Like hungry guests, a sitting audience looks;
Plays are like suppers; poets are the cooks.
The founder's you: the table is the place:
The carvers we: the prologue is the grace.
Each act, a course, each scene, a different dish,
Though we're in Lent, I doubt you're still for flesh.
Satire's the sauce, high-season'd, sharp and rough.
Kind masks and beaux, I hope you're pepperproof?
Wit is the wine; but 'tis so scarce the true
Poets, like vintners, balderdash and brew.
Your surly scenes, where rant and bloodshed join.
Are butcher's meat, a battle's sirloin:
Your scenes of love, so flowing, soft and chaste,
Are water-gruel without salt or taste.

Farce follow'd Comedy, and reach'd her prime.
In ever-laughing Foote's fantastic time;
Mad wag! who pardon'd none, read more

Farce follow'd Comedy, and reach'd her prime.
In ever-laughing Foote's fantastic time;
Mad wag! who pardon'd none, nor spared the best,
And turn'd some very serious things to jest.
Nor church nor state escaped his public sneers,
Arms nor the gown, priests, lawyers, volunteers;
"Alas, poor Yorick!" now forever mute!
Whoever loves a laugh must sigh for Foote.
We smile, perforce, when histrionic scenes
Ape the swoln dialogue of kings and queens,
When "Chrononhotonthelogos must die,"
And Arthur struts in mimic majesty.