Quotes About Drama

Everybody feels oppressed during a Wagner performance. That is part of the appeal.

People want to hear about the extremes of human nature. They want things that are larger than their own lives, and more romantic, and not necessarily of their own experiences.

Der Gesang ist die in höchster Leidenschaft erregte Rede: die Musik ist die Sprache der Leidenschaft.

Juliet had it easy; she never had to kill Romeo.

Everything's about my personal entertainment. The world is my stage. Keep it up- you're becoming a star performer in the show.

Rose? Is that you?" I peered behind him. Lissa. "What are you doing here?" "What are you doing here?" She asked "Ladies, ladies" he said teasingly. "No need to fight over me." I glared. "We're not.

There's a guy chasing me!" I called as I headed out the door.

He stepped forward and punched Dorian in the face, hard enough that I heard a thwack. "Ow," moaned Dorian, wincing from the pain. "My greatest asset.

It was no wonder my love life was so messed up when the most profound and intimate moments were always being interrupted by dire situations

To say my friends were living a soap opera was an understatement. They almost made my dangerous relationship with Adrian look boring.

Adrian, we're focusing on Jil here. This isn't about your personal entertainment." "Not true," he said, green eyes sparkling. "Everything's about my personal entertainment. The world is my stage. Keep it up—you're becoming a star performer in the show.

The maid screamed. The Queen gasped. Sophie waved.

It took a few moments for the full meaning of her words to penetrate, and in the silence that followed I became aware of Mike and how he was slowly drawing himself up in his chair, and the colour coming to his face, and the eyes opening wide, and the curl of the mouth, and the dangerous little patch of whiteness beginning to spread around the area of the nostrils.

don't have to read the stories Monday through Friday about how the fucking baby fell down the fucking well and the whole fucking community tried to get it out." "Seems

THE SUMMER OF 1972, I watched TV for the first time. The Munich Olympics were broadcast around the clock and I loved its opera-worthy spectacle and drama.

Johnson's customary reaction to physical danger, real or imagined, was so dramatic, almost panicky, that at college he had had the reputation of being "an absolute physical coward." All during World War II he had done everything he could to avoid combat.

One of the great paradoxes in romantic love is that it never produces human relationship as long as it stays romantic. It produces drama, daring adventures, wondrous, intense love scenes, jealousies, and betrayals; but people never seem to settle into relationship with each other as flesh-and-blood human beings until they are out of the romantic love stage, until they love each other instead of being "in love.

We incarnate the archetypes with our physical lives. Our individual lives are containers in which they materialize on the face of the earth, the battlegrounds where they fight their eternal, cosmic battles, the stages on which they perform the universal drama that becomes, in one particularized form, every human life.

Oh, as the tragedies of Shakespeare have revealed, the fall of kings is but fodder for the riches entertainments.

Susan had decided to sit by the pool at the hotel with a copy of a book by Alice Miller called The Drama of the Gifted Child.

He had on a red sleeveless jumpsuit, black shirt with bell sleeves, high-heeled black patent leather boots with black laces. A full-length black leather trench coat hung open.

El mundo entero es un escenario y cada hombre, en el momento adecuado, representa muchos papeles.

Harvey didn't set his phone to beep or buzz or vibrate like a normal person. Harvey's phone screeched with a string piece from the Hitchcock movie Psycho, the scene with Janet Leigh in the shower, the knife rising and falling, the string section shrieking with short, staccato stabs, the lone violin slashing through the fermata with discordant glissandos, more violins joining the first, violas adding their teeth, mad strings schooling like orchestral sharks at a blood-drunk feast.

Scott slapped on their flashers, and pushed out of their car. The flashers painted the street and surrounding buildings with blue kaleidoscope pulses. Stephanie