Best 2427 quotes in «drama quotes» category

All problems, though appearing outside of you, must be resolved within YOU.

All the girls stared at me with hatred in their eyes. It was a big drama that had to be acted out. But deep down, nobody really cared. The other girls didn't care about Jennifer. Jennifer didn't care about me. I didn't care about anything. Everyone was so full of crap.

A man who respects his wife, does not sleep with other women. And a woman who respects herself does not allow her husband to get away with it

A mistake is the name we give to any action in which we perceive a difference between what we intended and what has occurred. Intention fuels every dramatic action, including the writing of dramatic stories, which involves a series of dramatic actions. In the course of writing, or finding, the story that wants to get itself told, it behooves the writer to liberate the characters by finding the faith and courage necessary for setting aside one’s own conscious needs and expectations. Not to do so promotes ‘mistakes’ - i.e: confusion born of some incoherence in the emotional logic of the story). As the writer abandons his/her intentions - no matter how noble they may seem - only then does that most strange and ineffable quality we so casually refer to as ‘the magic’ have a chance of entering the story, and rendering even the ‘mistakes’ stimulating, daring and provocative.

And as her voice carried in the darkness, he wasn’t sure where the borders between her story and his dream were. But he saw no more nightmares; he dreamed of a noble Sky Ghost and his little daughter, which he taught everything she needed to become a better warrior than he was.

And do you know why we have not the power to attain this Stoic ideal? It is because we refuse to believe in our power. Nay, of a surety, there is something else which plays a part: it is because we are in love with our vices; we uphold them and prefer to make excuses for them rather than shake them off. We mortals have been endowed with sufficient strength by nature, if only we use this strength, if only we concentrate our powers and rouse them all to help us or at least not to hinder us. The reason is unwillingness, the excuse, inability.

And in a way, you could say that my father's end was my beginning...Or more precisely, that the end of his lie coincided with the beginning of my truth

And now, it turns out that our mother’s name means benevolence and generosity to people as objects of love! This is both a unique and beautiful name, Charity. “It was one of life’s cruel ironies,” I thought, “that a midwife, or whoever filled in the documents, must have known our mom’s name. I suppose she had a lot of fun naming us Hope and Faith! Or, on the contrary, she sympathized.

And now the bride begins to move. Little mechanical doll, clinging to her husband’s arm, climbing into the carriage. Her white silk stocking, her elegant shoe.

And sometimes being in love is not enough to make it work.

And so the lion fell in love with the lamb. what a stupid lamb. what a sick, masochistic lion.

ANGELO From thee, even from thy virtue! What's this, what's this? Is this her fault or mine? The tempter or the tempted, who sins most? Ha! Not she: nor doth she tempt: but it is I That, lying by the violet in the sun, Do as the carrion does, not as the flower, Corrupt with virtuous season. Can it be That modesty may more betray our sense Than woman's lightness? Having waste ground enough, Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary And pitch our evils there? O, fie, fie, fie! What dost thou, or what art thou, Angelo? Dost thou desire her foully for those things That make her good? O, let her brother live! Thieves for their robbery have authority When judges steal themselves. What, do I love her, That I desire to hear her speak again, And feast upon her eyes? What is't I dream on? O cunning enemy, that, to catch a saint, With saints dost bait thy hook! Most dangerous Is that temptation that doth goad us on To sin in loving virtue: never could the strumpet, With all her double vigour, art and nature, Once stir my temper; but this virtuous maid Subdues me quite. Even till now, When men were fond, I smiled and wonder'd how. -- Measure for Measure, II, ii

Answer the Call to Shine Your Light Right now there may be just few individuals who balance duality in unconditional love, but their unifying perception is very integrative. They live their lives in “Trinity” after they have expanded their understanding of “Duality”. There is no moral value judgment applied in their perceptions. The moral value judgment continually creates an illusion of separation and disconnection. A balanced consciousness, with no dual perception is very integrative and all inclusive. It expands at an enormous speed assisting others to perceive a myriad of different perspectives as different yet equally valid. Those individuals shine their light in the world as a sign of unity, harmony, and emotional balance. They are living witnesses to the reality of love, compassion, ease and joy. By their example others can choose to understand that life can be easy to live in one's preferred way without devaluing others' choices. They are those who lightened up carrying their bright match lit in a darkened room filled with fear and drama.

Ar fi putut să scrie despre unii adolescenți, ființe ce suferă mai mult decât oricine pe această lume neîndurătoare și care ar trebuie să se bucure de mai multe drepturi decât toți oamenii, descriind în același timp drama și sensul suferințelor lor, dacă, într-adevăr, acestea ar avea vreun sens.

Aricles and I are married. The Greek god Apollo found out and he threatened to discredit and shame me before the other gods unless Aricles refused to fight. To protect my honor and name, he has allowed all of you to insult and attack him, and I will not stand for him to be hurt again. By anyone." Bathymaas

CONGRATULATIONS DL Havlin! Your entry, "There are No Lights in Naples", an unpublished short fiction - flash fiction genre category, is a finalist for the 2016 Royal Palm Literary Awards competition!

A siege is always a hospital - a hospital where mad thoughts abound and where mad things are done; where, under the stimulus of an unnatural excitement, new beings are evolved, beings who, while having the outward shape of their former selves, and, indeed, most of the old outward characteristics, are yet reborn in some subtle way and are no longer the same. ... The salt of life! Is it true, or is it merely a mistake, such as life-loving man naturally makes? For it can be nothing but the salt of death which has lain for a brief instant on the tongue of every soldier - a revolting salt which the soldier refuses to swallow and only is compelled to with strange cries and demon-like mutterings. Sometimes, poor mortal, all his struggles and his oaths are in vain. The dread salt is forced down his throat and he dies. The very fortunate have only an acrid taste which defines analysis left them. Of these more fortunate there are, however, many classes. Some, because they are neurotic or have some hereditary taint, the existence of which they have never suspected, in the end succumb; others do not entirely succumb but carry traces to their graves; yet others do not appear to mind at all. It is a very subtle poison, which may lie hidden in the blood for many months and years. I believe it is a terrible thing. ... And yet even this nobody understands or cares to speak of... Englishmen are proud, and want to know if you were inside the British Legation, their Legation, and when they have heard yes or no their interest ceases. They little know what the Legation stood for. The Americans march up to the Tartar Wall, talk about "Uncle Sam's boys," and exclaim that it requires no guessing to tell who saved the Legations. The French are the same, so are the Germans, so even the Italians. Only the Japanese and the Russians say nothing. ... I am, therefore, tired of it all, inexpressibly tired. I wish to escape from my hospital, to go away to some clean land where they understand so little of such things that their indifference will in the end, perhaps, convince me and make me forget. Yet can one ever forget?

Ask not what your Joe Montaperto can do for you, but rather what YOU can do for your Joe Montaperto.

A smart girl," Pin said. "She will get there. She doesn't like being the queen of drama." Six years ago, Pin had come over from one of our Taiwanese partners. She still had a little idiom hiccup now and then. "Well, when is she going to toughen up? I know how important the tuition program is to her, how expensive vet school is. But how will she even get through if she can't handle a dead animal or two?" "Yes, but better she begin with compassion. Not everyone has it

At times it is so enjoyable to mire your neighbor into the filth you already got stuck in long ago!

- Ay! Thornton o' Marlborough Mill, as we call him. - He is one of the masters you are striving with, is he not? what sort of master is he? - Did yo' ever see a bulldog? Set a bulldog on hindlegs, and dress him up in coat and breeches, and yo'n just getten John Thornton.

Because every decision impacts everything that follows. Especially the wrong ones.

Because you can't be as in love as we were and not have it invade your bone marrow. Our kind of love can go into remission, but it's always waiting to return. Like the world's sweetest cancer.

Because you know that's all I needs, all I wants, is for you to try to run, to turn your back on me and run. I know you aint going to. Because all you got to beat is me. I got to beat old Carothers. Get your pistol." "No," the other said. "Go home. Get out of here. Tonight I will come to your house-----" "After this?" Lucas said. "Me and you, in the same country, breathing the same air even? No matter what you could say, what you could even prove so I would have to believe it, after this? Get your pistol.

Behind every drama is a good story...behind every tear is the person who wrote it.

Believe in Yourself Why must we see something to believe in its existence?The wind itself cannot be seen by man, but all have felt it's gentle touch and watched the mighty trees bow as it swept past. We cannot see love yet its nurturing warmth is the essence of our being and sorrow can touch our very soul. For remorse is like a ripple on the ocean, once given it remains only in the heart of the receiver. Yet all of these cannot be seen only felt. Why then do you doubt your self-worth? For though it cannot cast a reflection in the mirror you have only to look in the eyes of those you love to See it clearly. Prologue To Kiss a King To Kiss a King Copyright © 2017 by Julie Brookshier and Robin Woods All rights reserved. Except for use in a review, the reproduction or use of this work in whole or in part in any form is forbidden without written permission of one or more of the authors. This is a fictional work. Names, characters, places, and events are merely the product of the authors' imaginations or used fictitiously, purely for entertainment purposes. Any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead, or undead or any business establishments, events or places past, present, or future, is entirely coincidental.

Besides, men aren’t worth your time anyway, Letti. If we women spent as much time on ourselves as we do fretting over men, we’d be invincible! Work on yourself because at the end of the day, you’re the only person you can trust.

Bloody battle and homecoming embrace, lightning-studded skies and Arcadian pastures, riddles, mirrors, smoke, illusion, the love of a woman, the wrath of the gods. Life is drama, a tragedy and comedy both, and we the actors. A trite observation, one decidedly inspired by some other man's muses. Yet for all the horrors and triumphs of the stage, I have found that the arts of Dionysus offer little to compare with the struggles and achievements, the lives and deaths of real men, or at least of men of thought and action, men who renounce the apathy and ignorance of those who pas through life as if they were mere temporary visitors, gawking occasionally but for the most part simply following the meaty desires of their bellies and loins.

[bookcover:Lessons Learned|13578440] Another shot, and for some reason, I’m the only one who can’t move. Who can’t scream. Who can’t do anything but watch as the young man’s body slumps over his tray. Finally, I find my voice and scream his name.

Breaking the circle” My eyes darken when I see my new lover. Fresh prey. My body doesn’t really react in a sexual way. It’s the devil inside me that celebrates next conquest. We exchange meaningless sweet words. His hungry gaze penetrates my breasts and ass. Another drink and laughter. And then another one. Sometimes I get very drunk or high. And then I don’t feel him between my legs. I don’t see his sweating face. I don’t hear his moans and questions if I came. I can’t stay sober when I cheat on you. I’m such a coward that I can’t even face this inner monster. It consumes me, it takes away my dignity. It makes me do horrible things. It hurts you, the only one who ever loved me. Who knows what I really am. No. It’s not the monster. It’s me. I am the whore. I dig my nails into your soft flesh until it bleeds. I am the one pushing you away, feasting on your kindness. I blame those hard punches of my past for my infidelity. Those cruel hands. Those hateful words. I try not to, I really do. I try to be a better person. But how can I if I am just nobody? You know why I leave. Yet you stay. You’re there when I’m back. With your sorrow and cry and resentment and wrath. Why? If I’m broken because of my pain what’s your excuse? Why do you keep letting me treat you like a stray dog? Don’t you have any respect for yourself? What the fuck is wrong with you? And just when I think I have my own slave for life you break the circle. You shut the door with a grimace of relief. You can’t look at me anymore. See, you’re finally free! My inner innocent girl is happy for you. But the monster inside kicks and laughs at me. I’m left alone. I dress up and go hunting.

But all good things must come to an end—and I hear the greatest things tend to end quicker than they started.

But family connections are weird. Even if your relatives aren't good to you, they're still your blood. You can't lose that connection completely. And believe me, I've got a few relatives on my dad's side I'd love to lose.

But that's the tricky thing about love. If you aren't the type to walk away, and you aren't the kind of person who moves on quickly, you subsequently become the one who stays.

But what the measured prose of psychiatrists and the carefully calculated statistics of social scientists rarely capture is the experience of inner struggle. These "significant changes" do not occur automatically. In fact, they must often fight against our resistance. In this sense, midlife is a drama more worthy of a playwright than a scholar. We are characters in the play, caught at the opening of the second act, and we do not know what will happen next.

Does it go away?" she asks. "Missing each other?" I think about how much I missed Maman. I still do, though it isn´t as acute as it once was. "A little bit," I whisper. "Enough so that life continues. In a year you won´t even think about me. " She turns around in my arms and looks up at me, tugging at a strand of my hair. "don´t say stupid things, Sahar. You´re smarter than that.

Don't be fooled, Clara. No one's new and shiny. Not really.

Don't hate the game, hate the player... the player should have known better than to play the game in the first place.

Don't hang out with people who are: Ungrateful Unhelpful Unruly Unkindly Unloving Unambitious Unmotivated or make you feel... Uncomfortable

Do you ever feel as if everything surrounding you is in slow motion, moving through tar? There you are - and there's the world. You're outside staring in the window, observing reality happen, but you don't exist in it. You just watch, and watch. That's how I feel, like the dead butterfly staring back at you through the glass.

Drama entered my home last week, but I ushered it to the door and tossed it to the curb.

Drama of life may get gripping, intense or interesting but eventually it's still a drama.

Elevation Book Publishing drives each book to their highest peak and afford authors the opportunity to rise to their full potential. We create thriving partnerships.

Emotions tend to entwine Earthlings together.

-Esé es el drama. No hay más que ellos. No sé si te acuerdas del principio. Fue hace tan poco, pero parece tan lejano...cuando no importaban los jefes. Cuando esta se hacía no para elevar a un hombre, sino a todos

Estragon: You see, you feel worse when I'm with you. I feel better alone, too. Vladmir: Then why do you always come crawling back? Estragon: I don't know.

Even the world’s greatest actor cannot fake an erection.

Everybody acts out a myth, but very few people know what their myth is. And you should know what your myth is because it might be a tragedy and maybe you dont want it to be.

Every culture that has lost myth has lost, by the same token, its natural healthy creativity. Only a horizon ringed about with myths can unify a culture. The forces of imagination and the Apollonian dream are saved only by myth from indiscriminate rambling. The images of myth must be the daemonic guardians, ubiquitous but unnoticed, presiding over the growth of the child's mind and interpreting to the mature man his life and struggles.

Every fairy tale needs a good old-fashioned villain.

Everyone has their secrets, and there are shadows following us all.