Dreams are illustrations... from the book your soul is writing about you.
Marsha NormanTag: dreams
The theater is a communal event, like church. The playwright constructs a mass to be performed for a lot of people. She writes a prayer, which is really just the longings of one heart.
Marsha NormanFamily is just accident, Jessie. It's nothing personal, hon. They don't mean to get on your nerves. They don't even mean to be your family, they just are.
Marsha NormanTag: family
People do think that if they avoid the truth, it might change to something better before they have to hear it.
Marsha NormanJesus was a suicide, if you ask me.
Marsha NormanTag: god jesus suicide jesus-christ christ felo-de-se
I'm just not having a very good time and I don't have any reason to think it'll get anything but worse. I'm tired. I'm hurt. I'm sad. I feel used.
Marsha NormanMama, I know you used to ride the bus. Riding the bus and it’s hot and bumpy and crowded and too noisy and more than anything in the world you want to get off and the only reason in the world you don’t get off is it’s still fifty blocks from where you’re going? Well, I can get off right now if I want to, because even if I ride fifty more years and get off then, it’s the same place when I step down to it. Whenever I feel like it, I can get off. As soon as I’ve had enough, it’s my stop. I’ve had enough.
Marsha NormanTag: suicide boredom ennui bus busstations bus-stop
...I only told you about it because I thought I might get a laugh out of you for once even if it wasn't the truth, Jessie. Things don't have to be true to talk about 'em, you know.
Marsha NormanTag: truth conversation talk talking
I see it on his face. I hear it when he talks. We look out at the world and we see the same thing: Not Fair. And the only difference between us is Ricky's out there trying to get even. And he knows not trust anybody and he got it straight from me. And he knows not to try and get work, and guess where he got that. He walks around like there's loose boards in the floor, and you know who laid that floor, I did.
Marsha NormanTag: life doubt trust unfairness unfair unfairness-of-life
I hate milk. Coats your throat as bad as okra. Something just downright disgusting about it.
Marsha NormanPagina 1 di 2.
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