The basis of drama is ... is the struggle of the hero towards a specific goal at the end of which he realizes that what kept him from it was, in the lesser drama, civilization and, in the great drama, the discovery of something that he did not set out to discover but which can be seen retrospectively as inevitable. The example Aristotle uses, of course, is Oedipus.

I winked and locked my arm in Carter's, and we stood there, watching Dean stroll away."You know the guy's never gonna give up," Carter nudged me, letting out a sigh."We'd have really pretty babies, huh?""Yup. They'd be rad little Brangelinas, running around tearing the place up.""Yeah, you're right. My rejection is such a disservice to the world...

Uncouth thoughts can come take possession of the sweetest mind. That happens to you, you got to keep yourself alone a long time to heal of it. Mostly so you don’t pass it on. Thoughts, you see, or things, or folks that touch, go right on rubbing on each other, long after the actual touching is done and gone. That’s the Law Of Contagion.”-- Banjo Bartell

The author relates that the word "OBSCENE" springs from the concept in Greek drama that certain actions would be performed outside the scene or off the stage. He clarifies that the Greeks did not shy away from shocking actions, but they knew that portraying them in the audience's view would drown out the emotional subtlety of the character development and ethical dilemmas.

It was only a smile, nothing more. It didn't make everything all right. It didn't make ANYTHING all right. Only a smile. A tiny thing. A leaf in the woods, shaking in the wake of a startled bird's flight. But I'll take it. With open arms. Because when spring comes, it melts the snow one flake at a time, and maybe I just witnessed the first flake melting. - Ami

Gage is waiting on the makeshift bed when she enters the room she’s been sleeping in. The small lantern in the corner barely lights his features. His shoulders are hunched, his hands clasped together before him, and when he looks up, his face is downcast. There are a number of reasons why he would look this way, but the worst possible thing comes to mind first.Someone is dead.

Of course, in my mind, violence would have been better, but since that wasn’t an option, I decided to play along. “It’s okay, handsome. I’ve only been here a few minutes. I’d like to introduce you to Dick.”“No, it’s…” Richard tried to correct me only to be interrupted by Drew.“Nice to meet you, Dick,” Drew retorted.

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.

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.

……, but as I am a scholar I feel obliged to document what it is like here, most of the time, between the dramatic climaxes. In truth it is like this: You cannot imagine how time can be so still. It hangs. It weighs, and yet there is so little of it. It goes so slowly and it is so scarce. If I was writing this scene it would last a full 15 minutes. I would lie here and you would sit there.

The quotes were good, if overpolished. I find this common, and in direct proportion to the amount of TV a subject watches. Not long ago, I interviewed a woman whose twenty-two-year-old daughter had just been murdered by her boyfriend, and she gave me a line straight from a legal drama I happened to catch the night before: I'd like to say that I pity him, but now I fear I'll never be able to pity again.

Your old tutor did you a great disservice, Mr. Kynaston. He taught you how to speak, and swoon, and toss your head but he never taught you how to suffer like a woman, or love like a woman. He trapped a man in a woman's form and left you there to die! I always hated you as Desdemona. You never fought! You just died, beautifully. No woman would die like that, no matter how much she loved him. A woman would fight!

A sharp pain in her chest became more intoxicating with each breath she took. There it was. The reason she had forced herself to keep her distance from love. Why she had given up on trusting someone not to hurt her. Because a broken heart, no matter how figurative, was an unbearable pain to endure. And sometimes, no matter how much you want to be with someone, there’s never a guarantee that they want you back.

Blake smiled while greeting him and turned to introduce me to his friend from Camp Lejeune. Blake made the formal introductions while I studied the two distinguished men. I liked the way they both carried themselves in a dignified manner with confidence, but not too much that they seemed arrogant. I was fascinated by them. Sleek. Forget eye candy. These two are like eye caffeine. I feel energized just looking at them.

Do you know who W.H. Auden was, Mr. Iscariot? W.H. Auden was a poet who once said, “God may reduce you on Judgement Day to tears of shame reciting by heart the poems you would have written had your life been good”…She was my poem, Mr. Iscariot. Her and the kids. But mostly her. You cashed in for silver, Mr. Iscariot. But me? Me…I threw away gold. That’s a fact. That’s a natural fact.