Theatre Quote Novels & Stories

He sharply looked around; at sea. " What's going on? why is everyone staring at me?", he queried. " I just called you, Ben; explain what you understand by "Acts and Scenes in theatre act", Mr. Mark repeated. Ben hived; settling back in his desk, less concerned," Um, actually, sir, I kind of don't know what that means. I got no idea on that", he said. Mr. Mark sighed; shaking his head,"Laura Roberts, kindly help us out on this topic", he called at Laura who was busily jotting down some notes she missed earlier on.

“Wherever you go, whatever you do… You are mine. You were forged behind the Curtain. This stage may be dark now… but our theater never closes.” He turned and walked off the stage into the wings, leaving them there, a broken, bonded tableau on the empty boards. The ghost light watched over them, a silent sentinel to the secrets sex and power had written in the dark backstage shadows of The Grand Marquee Theater

So, why is there no people? “You said this theatre is good,” Harriet complained to Cassius. Tilting his head to her side while holding the colas, Cassius replied, “It is. There is always less people coming here. So, it’s good.” Harriet’s mouth hanged loose. What Cassius meant when he said that the theatre is good is that there are almost no one coming here. And it is perfect for someone like Cassius, who hates crowded place. ‘Why did I forget that? Darn it,’ Harriet sighed inwardly as she caught her forehead with her palm.

which translates to "you become an entirely different person because you are dressed in a different...costume?" The words of the Bard came out of my mouth without my knowledge or consent. I gave Ruth a knowing wink and remarked, "All the world's a stage." She proceeded by saying, "And all of the men and women are only players." She gave me a grin while arching her brows in response to me. After making a slow circle around her, I moved her closer to me before continuing. I cited the statement that "They Have Their Exits and Their Entrances." And in the course of one man's life, he plays multiple roles.

he teased. Damn her contract, Melanie thought. These were the people who had given birth to her acting career. They had spent long hours, and nearly every weekend in rehearsals, performing plays for the community. If she couldn't trust her fellow thespians, who could she trust? She gave the answer in the well-known voice of Maggie Franklin, using a line from their ninth grade production of Thieves Carnival: "Nothing to do, nowhere to go, and all the men are hideous. Quite, quite hideous." She took a drag from the cigarette, smiled and waited for their reaction.

On the back, scratched in the inner rim: Property of MIRROR-011. PERFORMER LOCK: WRENLEIGH. Isolde’s hand clenched the note. She opened it. One sentence, written in a crisp, untraceable hand: If you want the truth to survive, perform it. If you want it to die, burn the room. Her fingers closed slowly around the page. She didn’t look at either of them. “Someone’s built this whole thing like a theatre,” she said. “Curtains. Scripts. Audience.” Penelope’s voice was quiet. “But who’s the playwright?”

Veronica gave me a flat look that had me hide my laugh behind my napkin. Bridget narrowed her eyes at me for a fraction of a second before continuing. “The beauty of the theater is how every person is an imperative moving part. It is only through everyone’s great effort that this event will be a success. Yes, Nicholas and I will draw most of the attention, but we will shine because of your hard work.” Susie looked at me now, back over her shoulder. “Is this supposed to be motivating?” she whispered. I gave her a shrug.

His eyes gleam with anticipation as he crosses to the stage, shoes silent upon the polished marble, and gently lifts the microphone from its stand. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he begins, his voice resonating across the high, painted ceiling. “Tonight, we have witnessed brilliance—a performance that will not soon be forgotten. Ophelia—” he turns, searching the front row, his eyes alight, “your artistry leaves us humbled. Your future shines as bright as the chandelier above us; there is no higher praise, nor deeper admiration, than I offer now, before all assembled.”

“Sometimes the longer you wait, the closer the knife gets to the throat.” And with that, he walks off. I stay behind. Staring at the lake. Watching my reflection blur and bend on the water’s surface. Trying to figure out if I’m drowning in doubt— Or just too scared to swim. The black velvet curtains swallow the afternoon light, leaving the theater cloaked in that familiar half-shadow. Dust dances in the beams of stage lights, and the scuff marks on the wooden floor feel like memories frozen mid-performance. It’s the first theater session since exams.

"First of all, we would like to thank you for your support. We appreciate that you enjoyed our play. However, just to be sure, could you confirm that you booked our performance of Snow White? We want to make sure there hasn't been any mistake." Griffith replied, "We have money but not enough to save the world." Clearing her throat, Charlotte maintained her composure and continued. "I apologize if I gave you the wrong impression. Our theater's most popular play is Ms. Jessica's Looking West to the Capital. Are you sure you didn't make a mistake?" "Jessica?" "Yes." "I don't know her." Lucy could not help but burst into laughter. Several people followed suit. Jessica's face darkened, and she lo