The Writer from "The Lady of Larkspur Lotion" by Tennessee Williams

(in a tired voice) Ah, well, now, what if I am? Suppose there is no 780-page masterpiece in existence. (He closes his eyes and touches his forehead.) Supposing there is in existence no masterpiece whatsoever! What of that, Mrs. Wire? But only a few, a very few--vain scribblings--in my old trunk-bottom. . . . Suppose I wanted to be a great artist but lacked the force and the power! Suppose my books fell short of the final chapter, even my verses languished uncompleted! Suppose the curtains of my exalted fancy rose on magnificent dramas--but the house-lights darkened before the curtain fell! Suppose all of these unfortunate things are true! And suppose that I--stumbling from bar to bar, from drink to drink, till I sprawl at last on the lice-infested mattress of this brothel--suppose that I, to make this nightmare bearable for as long as I must continue to be the helpless protagonist of it--suppose that I ornament, illuminate--glorify it! With dreams and fictions and fancies! Such as the existence of a 780-page masterpiece--impending Broadway productions--marvelous volumes of verse in the hands of publishers only waiting for signatures to release them! Suppose that I live in this world of pitiful fiction! What satisfaction can it give you, good woman, to tear it to pieces, to crush it--call it a lie? I tell you this--now listen! There are no lies but the lies that are stuffed in the mouth by the hard-knuckled hand of need, the cold iron fist of necessity, Mrs. Wire! So I am a liar, yes! But your world is built on a lie, your world is a hideous fabrication of lies! Lies! Lies! . . . Now I'm tired and I've said my say and I have no money to give you so get away and leave this woman is peace! Leave her alone. Go on, get out, get away!