Quotes About Drama

in which the soap star talked about her drug bust. "Louise isn't even a bloody

It is futile to plan a city's appearance, or speculate on how to endow it with a pleasing appearance of order, without knowing what sort of innate, functioning order it has. To seek for the look of things as a primary purpose or as the main drama is apt to make nothing but trouble.

To seek for the look of things as a primary purpose or as the main drama is apt to make nothing but trouble.

Ernest Goss fell backward into the piano again, fortissmo. He regained his balance with an E-flat chord and lunged at Teddy.

The plays he had liked were the one called Measure for Measure, and another one called Macbeth. They were easy to follow, and what happened in them was kind of like what happened in junior high school.

Laura's gossip was redeemed by its lack of spite. She was warmly objective about every event, taking endless delight in action and complexity, as if she had been bed-ridden in a small windowless room for years and was just now discovering the dramatic possibilities of daily life. She sang Alice through the day.

He knew he was not a brave man, but he had a great sense of drama. In some circumstances it could seem the same. Forcing

If she wasn't your grandmother I'd shoot her. Ranger

I almost never shoot people.

It would be difficult to tell, Wulf said. I've always been a romantic. I've seen Casablanca twice, and I sat through the entire ordeal of Titanic. Didn't you enjoy Titanic? I was relieved when the ship went down.

My mother was about three feet from Pooka. She threw herself forward, grabbed hold of his shirt, and they both went down to the ground. They rolled around a little and by the time I reached them, my mother was on top, punching Pooka in the face. "She's beating the crap out of him," Lula said. "Way to go, Mrs. P.

The third message was from my mother. 'Why me?' she said. 'Why do I have to have a daughter who finds dead bodies? Where did I go wrong? Emily Beeber's daughter never finds dead bodies. Joanne Melanowski's daughter never finds dead bodies. Why me!' News travels fast in the Burg.

He was around the desk in two strides, reaching out for me. I knocked his hand away, grabbed the staple gun, pressed it into his crotch, and bam, bam, bam, bam . . . I stapled his nuts.

You take advantage. He don't stay at birthday party like good boy. He come to you for nicky nacky. You slut. I fix you so he see. I give you vordo." She waved her hand at me, she slapped her ass, and she wheeled around and left the coffee shop.

Uh oh," Lula said. "Here comes Officer Hottie, and he don't look happy." Morelli moved behind me and curled his fingers into the back of my jacket collar. "I need to talk to you . . . outside." "I wouldn't go if I was you," Lula said to me. "He's wearing his mad cop face. At least you should make him leave his gun here." Morelli shot Lula a look, and she buried her head in the chicken bucket.

Every time I get social with you I end up all by myself, naked, in the middle of the street." I rolled my eyes. "That only happened once…and you weren't naked. You were wearing socks and a shirt." "I was speaking figuratively. If you want to get specific, what about the time you locked me in a freezer truck with three corpses? What about the time you ran over me with the Buick?" I threw my hands into the air. "Oh sure, bring up the Buick.

Lula fired off a shot that went wide, and Poletti charged Briggs. Grandma swung her purse just as Poletti swept past her. The big black patent leather bag caught Poletti on the side of the head, and Poletti staggered and crashed to the ground. Ranger cuffed him, and the three cops took over.

My mother fainted. Crash, onto the floor with the big wooden spoon still in her hand.

What's up?" I asked my mother. "I just got fourteen phone calls about someone hitting Joseph's Grandma Bella in the face with a chocolate cream pie when she was walking out of the funeral home. They said she was going out the side door for some reason, and someone came out of nowhere and hit her with the pie." "Did they know who did it?" Grandma asked. "Bella said it was you.

tinted windows rounded the corner, obviously chasing Kevin. It blew past us, screeching to a

The result is sometimes an ugly display of old lady bitch slapping.

Unlike fiction, which you create before you go into production, with reality you kind of create it after everything is produced. The drama and the storytelling is really done in post.

It is always more fun to play a bad guy than to be yourself as you can create a character unlike your own and be someone you are not for a change.

In England, when we're at drama school, we spend a lot of time learning the craft from playwrights and stage actors, who are very well trained in the basics of acting because they need to get it right the first time - you can't have second or third takes when you're in front of a live audience, unlike in film.