A monologue of a broken heart. by ~Sazroy‚ Apr 23‚ 2006‚ 6:36:33 AM Literature / Prose / Non-Fiction / Biography & Memoir What becomes of the broken hearted? Nothing. You think you know love -- then that love turns out to be an egotistical self-involved bastard who’s no braver than the house mouse living in your walls waiting ’til you least expect it. I’ve made mistakes before. But nothing compares to the ones made with him. The ones made in his arms‚ his unloving false arms’ embrace that somehow
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“Monologue for an onion” by Suji Kwock Kim The poem “Monologue for an onion” by Suji Kwock Kim begins with the peeling of an onion that could very well describe her and her agony‚ but further reading reveals that the majority of the poem is directed at the person doing the peeling. The reader cannot help but sympathize with the peeled onion‚ whether the emotions stem from the hurt state of the onion or from the aggressive peeler. Clearly the poet’s attack of the peeler grabs the attention of
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Be aggressive out of your dive‚ think of every stroke as a reach toward to the wall‚ don’t pull yourself high on your turns‚ keep foot flexed and knees together for the kick… My inner monologue continues as I run every detail of my race through my head. Adrenaline pumps through my body‚ following the beat of the music pulsing in my ears. I had prepared for this moment all season… Scratch that‚ I didn’t even think I’d get here. I was just waiting and watching‚ dreading every second the clock brought
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Monologue- an Athenian Man Fed up of the dark‚ tossing sea I was keen to lay down our spoils at the foot of Apollo in dedication‚ already planning the arrangements of invitations‚ wine and Hetari for the feast I would give out in celebration of my homecoming. Wearied by the hills of Cerata‚ wetted with blood- a righteous token of the brute treachery of our Megarian allies‚ our trireme Aianteia‚ was pulled with steady shoulders‚ the eretai crying “rhup-pa-pai” as‚ skirting the moles‚ we made for
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Macbeth Monologue MACBETH: Is this a dagger which I see before me‚ The handle toward my hand? Come‚ let me clutch thee! I have thee not‚ and yet I see thee still. Art thou not‚ fatal vision‚ sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind‚ a false creation Proceeding from the heat-oppressèd brain? I see thee yet‚ in form as palpable As this which now I draw. Thou marshall’st me the way that I was going‚ And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the
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My Dramatic Monologue – Crooks – Life is really hard at the moment. I was ‘aving the time of me life on Saturday night wiv that big bindlestick whats his name? ( scratch back‚ stroke chin‚ sigh) Ahhhh Lennie thats it. Well anyway we was just sittin’ and talkin’ and talkin’ and sittin’ ‘bout this amazing place that George and Lennie was going to hav’. It gave me hope it did to get out this bloody place‚ start a fresh life and maybe just maybe be treated like a real guy for a change. (imagine it
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about a man that has questioned life and death even long before our time. This troubled man is named Hamlet. In this essay you will see why this young man has such deep and sad thoughts about death‚ an explanation on his famous soliloquy‚ and his monologue to another character. Hamlet is that has faced many struggles internally and externally. To start off his problems‚ Hamlet’s father has died and his mother has married his uncle soon after death. You see his grief in one of his soliloquies when he
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The lady in the looking glass: A reflection “The Lady in the Looking-Glass‚” by Virginia Woolf‚ tells the story of a woman who examines herself on the exterior and interior. Readers must wonder if the woman in this short story is a mere fictional representation of how Woolf sees her own life. On the outside‚ the woman is seen as rich and was self-made. Yet‚ this view of the character’s life is a superficial representation because on the inside‚ the character sees something entirely different; when
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Lennie’s Monologue: It’s them sycamores I remember. An’ the river‚ runnin’ deep and green‚ tinkling jus’ like the way Aunt Clara’s house keys used to when she was out on the porch about to unlock the front door. I’d hide my mouse in my pocket whene’er I heard them jinglin’ keys‚ because Aunt Clara ne’er liked ’em rodents hangin’ around her house. I was a smart boy‚ I really was. I see the clearing an’ I know I’ve found it‚ I’ve found the safe spot. George’ll come get me here before the
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detail the loneliness and suffering of Penelope’s years away from Ulysses. The techniques used were really basic; I used lots of adjectives‚ and tried to use imagery words to give the reader the image of Penelope reaching out to her true love. Monologue: For so Long I have suffered inside these forlorn walls All happiness has been drained from the inside I am nothing… Too many days have gone by without a letter Travelling the seas to unknown lands Ulysses‚ my love‚ come back to me! Can’t
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