Deirdre Madden

I watched plays with the kind of voracity with which small children read books; with the same visceral passion, the same complete trust in the imagination which is so difficult to sustain through the course of one's whole life.

But this was the first occasion I had come across someone for whom art was a means of avoiding reality rather than confronting it head on, an idea so strange to me that I didn't fully comprehend it at the time.

Rejection only made the attachment stronger. I realized that the impossibility of connection was a driving force behind his desire.

It is a kind of geisha containment, a shutteredness, a withdrawal and negation. It's as if she is capable of sensing when people are on the point of knowing who she is and she sends them a subliminal denial.

I realise that a certain school of thought says that who we are is something we construct for ourselves. We build our self out of what we think we remember.