Alma Summer and Smoke by Tennesee Williams

It’s no longer a secret that I love you. It never was. I

loved you as long ago as the time I asked you to read the
stone angel’s name with your fingers. Yes, I remember the
long afternoons of our childhood, when I had to stay
indoors to practice my music - and heard your playmates
calling you, “Johnny! Johnny!” How it went through me,
just to hear your name called! And how I - rushed to the
window to watch you jump the porch railing! I stood at a
distance, halfway down the block, only to keep in sight of
your torn red sweater, racing about the vacant lot you
played it. Yes, it had begun that early, this affliction of
love, and has never let go of me since, but kept on
growing. I’ve lived next door to you all the days of my life,
a weak and divided person who stood in adoring awe of
you singleness, of your strength. And that is my story!
Now I wish you would tell me - why didn’t it happen
between us? Why did I fail? Why did you come almost
close enough - and no closer?
 Diwata - Speech & Debate by Stephen Karam

Mr. Healy! Hey! Mr. Healy! Mr. Healy? You can’t do this. You just
can’t alter the plot of Once Upon a Mattress. The whole show is
about how Lady Larkin needs to get married ASAP because she's
pregnant out of wedlock. And now to avoid the raciness of an
“unwed mom” she’s no longer going to be pregnant? Mr. Healy we
have a teen mothers program at our highschool. You really think an
unwed mom in a 1950's musical is too racy for us? Are we in Salem
Oregon or Salem Massachusetts circa 1620, whenever those
witches were burned. Well Mr. Healy, let me tell you something.
Well you can't burn me
This witch is fireproof
So try and hang me
And see how strong my neck is
That’s an excerpt from “Headstrong '' a ballad from my new original
musical Crucible, based on Arthur Miller’s play, The Crucible. The
show is told entirely from the perspective of Marry Warren, a part I
was born to play and a part in which you denied me last year. But
this isn't about my ego, Mr Healy, or the never ending mistakes you
make as an artist and as a man. This is about someone bigger than
us. Mary Rodgers the composer of Once Upon a Mattress?
Because once she hears about these heinous changes Mr. Healy
she will die. And if she's like already dead then she will karate kick
her way out of her coffin to find you and slap you in the balls.
 PHOEBE - AS YOU LIKE IT WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

Think not I love him, though I ask for him.

’Tis but a peevish boy—yet he talks well—
But what care I for words? Yet words do well
When he that speaks them pleases those that hear.
It is a pretty youth—not very pretty—
But sure he’s proud—and yet his pride becomes
him.
He’ll make a proper man. The best thing in him
Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue
Did make offense, his eye did heal it up.
He is not very tall—yet for his years he’s tall.
His leg is but so-so—and yet ’tis well.
There was a pretty redness in his lip,
A little riper and more lusty red
Than that mixed in his cheek: ’twas just the
difference
Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask.
There be some women, Silvius, had they marked
him
In parcels as I did, would have gone near
To fall in love with him; but for my part
I love him not nor hate him not; and yet
I have more cause to hate him than to love him.
For what had he to do to chide at me?
He said mine eyes were black and my hair black,
And now I am remembered, scorned at me.
I marvel why I answered not again.
But that’s all one: omittance is no quittance.
I’ll write to him a very taunting letter,
And thou shalt bear it. Wilt thou, Silvius?
 Jim Quinn - Prodigal Son by John Patrick Shanley

Why is it your school? Why am I always in the wrong? Why

do I have to listen to you when you have zero to say?
Because I'm young? All my life I've been young. So I never
get a turn? This school is lost, if you ask me. You're lost.
But everybody talks to me like I'm the one. I should change.
Why should I change? I've never even gotten to find out
who I am and you want me to change? That's crazy! You
tell me I'm bad before I even get to be anything. What the
hell is that? Original sin or something. I’ve read Plato. I read
him on a park bench in the Bronx and let me tell you
something. Plato wasn't afraid. Diogenes wasn't afraid.
Socrates wasn't afraid of anything. They were men. Why
are you the headmaster and I'm the student? Do you
understand? I have to earn your respect but you don't have
to earn mine? What is that? It's you that wants the A before
you even start. But when I say the same thing, I’m nuts,
right? I’m not gonna cry. I’m gonna find my place in this
world, count on it. And this, this school has been a miracle
for me, but not because of you, because somebody, Mr
Hoffman, finally saw me. And more than that, somebody, a
grown person, decided I was good before I was good. And
you wanna throw me out of that? Then you know what I
say? I’ve never met your God. And I didn’t want to.