The Cherry Orchard Chekhov

MADAME RANEVSKY: Please don't go; I want you. At any rate it's gayer when you're
here. [A pause] I keep expecting something to happen, as if the house were going to tumble
down about our ears. We have been very, very sinful! Oh, the sins that I have committed ...
I've always squandered money at random like a madwoman; I married a man who made
nothing but debts. My husband drank himself to death on champagne; he was a fearful
drinker. Then for my sins I fell in love and went off with another man; and immediately--that
was my first punishment--a blow full on the head ... here, in this very river ... my little boy
was drowned; and I went abroad, right, right away, never to come back any more, never to
see this river again.... I shut my eyes and ran, like a mad thing, and he came after me, pitiless
and cruel. I bought a villa at Mentone, because he fell ill there, and for three years I knew no
rest day or night; the sick man tormented and wore down my soul. Then, last year, when my
villa was sold to pay my debts, I went off to Paris, and he came and robbed me of everything,
left me and took up with another woman, and I tried to poison myself.... It was all so stupid,
so humiliating.... Then suddenly I longed to be back in Russia, in my own country, with my
little girl.... [Wiping away her tears] Lord, Lord, be merciful to me; forgive my sins! Do not
punish me any more! [Taking a telegram from her pocket.] I got this to-day from Paris.... He
asks to be forgiven, begs me to come back....

A Dolls House Ibsen

Nora: You have never loved me. You have only thought it pleasant to be in love with me. It is
perfectly true, Torvald. When I was at home with papa, he told me his opinion about
everything, and so I had the same opinions; and if I differed from him I concealed the fact,
because he would not have liked it. He called me his doll-child, and he played with me just as
I used to play with my dolls. And when I came to live with you--I mean that I was simply
transferred from papa's hands into yours. You arranged everything according to your own
taste, and so I got the same tastes as your else I pretended to, I am really not quite sure
which--I think sometimes the one and sometimes the other. When I look back on it, it seems
to me as if I had been living here like a poor woman--just from hand to mouth. I have existed
merely to perform tricks for you, Torvald. But you would have it so. You and papa have
committed a great sin against me. It is your fault that I have made nothing of my life.

Follies Sondheim

Phyliss: How could I leave you? Could I wave the years away with a quick goodbye? Give
up the joys that Ive known? Not to fetch your pills again, everyday at five? Not to give those
dinners for ten elderly men from the UN. How could I survive? Could I leave you and your
martyred looks, cryptic sighs, your jokes with a sneer, and passionless lovemaking once a
year? Could I live through the pain on a terrace in Spain? Would it pass? It would pass.
Could I leave you? No the point is could you leave me? You could leave me the house and the
flat and stocks for sentiments sake. Angel I have to confess. Could I leave you? Yes. Will I
leave you? Guess!
Whos Afraid of Virginia Woolf Albee

Martha: You're all flops. I am the Earth Mother, and you are all flops. (To herself) I disgust
me. You know, there's only been one man in my whole life who's ever made me happy. Do
you know that?...George, my husband...George, who is out somewhere there in the dark, who
is good to me - whom I revile, who can keep learning the games we play as quickly as I can
change them. Who can make me happy and I do not wish to be happy. Yes, I do wish to be
happy. George and Martha: Sad, sad, sad...Whom I will not forgive for having come to rest;
for having seen me and having said: yes, this will do; who has made the hideous, the hurting,
the insulting mistake of loving me and must be punished for it. George and Martha: Sad, sad,
sad...Some day, hah! Some night, some stupid, liquor-ridden night, I will go too far and I'll
either break the man's back or I'll push him off for good which is what I deserve.

A Streetcar Named Desire Williams

Blanche: I, I, I took the blows in my face and my body! All of those deaths! The long parade
to the graveyard! Father, Mother! Margaret, that dreadful way! So big with it, couldn't be put
in a coffin! But had to be burned like rubbish! You just came home in time for the funerals,
Stella. And funerals are pretty compared to deaths. Funerals are quiet, but deaths- not always.
Sometimes their breathing is hoarse, and sometimes it rattles, and sometimes they even cry
out to you, "Don't let me go!" Even the old, sometimes, say, "Don't let me go." As if you were
able to stop them! But funerals are quiet, with pretty flowers. And, oh, what gorgeous boxes
they pack them away in! Unless you were there at the bed when they cried out, "Hold me!"
you'd never suspect there was a struggle for breath and bleeding. You didn't dream, but I saw!
Saw! Saw! And now you sit here telling me with your eyes that I let the place go! How in hell
do you think all that sickness and dying was paid for? Death is expensive, Miss Stella! And
old Cousin Jessie's right after Margaret's, hers! Why, the Grim Reaper had put up his tent on
our doorstep! ? Stella. Belle Reve was his headquarters! Which of them left us a fortune?
Which of them left a cent of insurance even? Only poor Jessie- one hundred to pay for her
coffin. That was all, Stella! And I with my pitiful salary at the school. Yes, accuse me! Sit
there and stare at me, thinking I let the place go! I let the place go? Where were you! In bed
with your- Polack!