Thespian

Tom is a thespian.

In his way Carlyle was as much of a Thespian as Garrick or Kemble, Booth or Jeferson.

Now, I don’t think you’ve met Melissa Wayne, a fellow Thespian.

The courtyard’s empty and the Clients are inside the castle making pigs of themselves while watching a troupe of Thespians bait an animatronic bear.

Went to that magnificent Temple of Thalia, the New Olympic, and saw the bewitchingest Pauline, in the person of Winifred Emery, that ever I saw in the shammiest, stagiest, tawdriest, tinsellest, transparentest, most diaphanously theatrical comedy I ever saw in the absolute period of my Thespian existence.

He stopped, and smiled, his blond hair, male-model good looks, and his ponytail giving away his Thespian dreams.

“A stunning clotheshorse upon whom no discernible Thespian demands were made,” wrote Jack Gould, the television critic for The New York Times.