#1. Excerpt from an interview with John Lennon- Female Every country has had a violent revolution, for one reason or the other. Not one of them has the freedom we’re all talking about. So we’re saying, “Give peace a chance.” You know, like nobody’s ever done it before. And we’re not thinking terms of ten years, we’re thinking in terms of peace forever, you know. And everybody’s talking about now. “I want peace now!” We can get peace now if we want it now. And they talk about giving the power to the people. Anybody knows that the people have the power, all we have to do is awaken the power in the people. The people around the world? It’s like they’re not educated to realize that they have power. They put the politicians in power. They vote for the local mayor. The people do it, but the system is so geared that everybody believes the government will fix everything. That it’s all the government’s fault. You know, shake your fist at the government. Well, we are the government. The people are the government, and the people have the power. But we must try to make them aware of this.

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#2. Monologue from the television series Grey’s Anatomy- Male Ask most surgeons why they became surgeons and they usually tell you the same thing; it was for the high, the rush, the thrill that comes from cutting someone open and saving their life. For me, it was different. Maybe because I grew up in a house with four sisters. No, definitely because I grew up in a house with four sisters. Because it’s the quiet that drew me to surgery. The operating room is a quiet place, peaceful. It has to be in order for us to stay alert and to stave complications. When you stand in the operating room, your patient on the table, all the world’s noise, all the worries that it brings…disappears. A calm settles over you. Time passing without thought. For that moment, you feel completely at peace. Peace isn’t a permanent state. It exists in moments. Fleeting; gone before we even knew it was there. We can experience it at any time; in a stranger’s act of kindness. A task that requires complete focus. Or simply the comfort of an old routine. Everyday, we all experience these moments of peace. The trick is to know when they’re happening. So we can embrace them, live in them…and finally let them go.

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#3. Excerpt from a speech given by MLK on June 4, 1957- FemaleThe Greek language uses three words for love. It talks about eros. Eros is a sort of aesthetic love. It has come to us to be a sort of romantic love and it stands with all of its beauty. But when we speak of loving those who oppose us we’re not talking about eros. The Greek language talks about philia and this is a sort of reciprocal love between personal friends. This is a vital, valuable love. But when we talk of loving those who oppose you and those who seek to defeat you we are not talking about eros or philia. The Greek language comes out with another word and it is agape. Agape is understanding, creative, redemptive good will for all men. Biblical theologians would say it is the love of God working in the minds of men. It is an overflowing love which seeks nothing in return. And when you come to love on this level you begin to love men not because they are likeable, not because they do things that attract us, but because God loves them and here we love the person who does the evil deed while hating the deed that the person does. It is the type of love that stands at the center of the movement that we are trying to carry on in the Southland—agape.

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#4. Excerpt from “I’m Explaining a Few Things” by Pablo Neruda- Male And one morning all that was burning,one morning the bonfiresleapt out of the earthdevouring human beingsand from then on fire,gunpowder from then on,and from then on blood.Bandits with planes and Moors,bandits with finger-rings and duchesses,bandits with black friars spattering blessingscame through the sky to kill childrenand the blood of children ran through the streetswithout fuss, like children’s blood. Face to face with you I have seen the bloodof Spain tower like a tideto drown you in one waveof pride and knives.

#4 Continued…

Treacherous generals:see my dead house,look at broken Spain:from every house burning metal flowsinstead of flowersfrom every socket of SpainSpain emergesand from every dead child a rifle with eyesand from every crime bullets are bornwhich will one day findthe bull’s eye of your hearts. And you will ask: why doesn’t his poetryspeak of dreams and leavesand the great volcanoes of his native land?Come and see the blood in the streets.Come and see the blood in the streets!

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#5. Excerpt from A Sense of Wonder by Rachel Carson- Female A child’s world is fresh and new and beautiful, full of wonder and excitement. It is our misfortune that for most of us, that clear-eyed vision, that true instinct for what is beautiful and awe-inspiring, is dimmed and even lost before we reach adulthood. If I had influence over the good fairy who is supposed to preside over the christening of all children, I should ask that her gift to each child in the world be a sense of wonder so indestructible that it would last throughout life, as an unfailing antidote against the boredom and disenchantments of later years, the sterile preoccupation of all things artificial, the alienation from the sources of our strength. It is a wholesome and necessary thing for us to turn again to the earth and in the contemplation of her beauties to know the sense of wonder and humility.

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#6. “I Love Time Out With Nature” by Francis Duggan- Male/Female I love time out with nature and I love peace and quiet To walk along the gravel path in the evening sunlight When the wild birds are singing and spring is in her prime And even memories of such inspire the soul to rhyme I love time out with nature, a brief release from care For nature, she is generous; her gifts with all she shares We drink of her clear spring waters and we breathe in her life-sustaining air And nature’s splendid beauty is around us everywhere I love time out with nature, the only God I know Her stream from the high country down to the river flow The skylark from the rank grass in the mood for song he flies One of nature’s feathered minstrels, he carols in the sky In time out with Mother Nature, from life’s cares, I find ease The sounds of the leaves rustling in the freshening evening breeze And we much like the seasons to life, we come and go But nature lives forever; the only God I know

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#7. Excerpt from “The Sleepers” by Walt Whitman- Male/Female I swear they are all beautiful, Every one that sleeps is beautiful, every thing in the dim light is beautiful, The wildest and bloodiest is over, and all is peace. Peace is always beautiful, The myth of heaven indicates peace and night. The myth of heaven indicates the soul, The soul is always beautiful, The universe is duly in order, every thing is in its place, What has arrived is in its place and what waits shall be in its place, The twisted skull waits, the watery or rotten blood waits, The child of the glutton waits long, and the child of the drunkard waits long, and the drunkard himself waits long, The sleepers that lived and died wait, the far advanced are to go on in their turns, and the far behind are to come on in their turns, The diverse shall be no less diverse, but they shall flow and unite-- they unite now.

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“Only that moon”

Sometimes I feel there is a hole inside me... An emptiness that, at times, seems to burn. I think if you lifted my heart to your ear, you could probably hear the ocean. And the moon tonight: there's a circle around it --- a sign of trouble not far behind. I have this dream of being whole... Of not going to sleep each night wanting, but still sometimes, when the wind is warm or the crickets sing, I dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for. I just want someone to love me. I want to be seen. I don't know... Maybe I've had my happiness. I don't want to believe it. Only, that moon.

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“Don’t Let Me Be Normal” This morning a bird woke me up. It was a lark, or a peacock; something like that. So I said hello. And it vanished, flew away, the very moment I said hello! It was quite mysterious. So do you know what I did? I went to my mirror and brushed my hair two hundred times, without stopping. And as i was brushing it, my hair turned mauve. No, honestly! Mauve! Then red. then some sort of a deep blue when the sun hit it.... Every day something happens to me. I don't know what to make of it. When I get up in the morning and get dressed, I can tell...something's different. I like to touch my eyelids, because they're never quite the same. Oh, oh, oh! I hug myself till my arms turn blue, then I close my eyes and cry and cry till the tears come down and I can taste them. I love to taste my tears. I am special. I am special! Please god, please, don't let me be normal!

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Puck’s Monologue A M idsummer Night’s Dream- William Shakespeare

Puck is a very mischievous, fun fairy

Now the hungry lion roars, And the wolf behowls the moon;

Whilst the heavy plowman snores, All with weary task fordone̊.

Now the wasted brands do glow, Whilst the screech owl, screeching loud,

Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night,

That the graves, gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite,

In the churchway paths to glide: And we fairies, that do run By the triple Hecate’s team̊, From the presence of the sun,

Following darkness like a dream, Now are frolic̊ . Not a mouse

Shall disturb this hallowed house: I am sent, with broom, before,

To sweep the dust behind the door .̊

Fordone- worn out Triple Hecate’s team- i.e., because she had three names: Phoebe in Heaven, Diana on

Earth, Hecate in Hades. (like her chariot – drawn be black horses or dragons – the elves were abroad only at night.)

Frolic- frolicsome Behind the door- Puck traditionally helped with household chores.

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Make Me Laugh, Clown

I’m afraid of clowns, I’m not ashamed of it. (...) As an adult, I feel capable of defending myself against a mime with a jolt from a pretend stun gun, and then running away very fast. Clowns, however, are a different story. They carry forces of the darkside with them. Pop a clown’s balloon, and he’ll only mutilate a bigger, nastier one. Lock him in the trunk of a car and he’ll multiply himself into six more clowns. Spit on a clown and he’ll only want to give you a hug. I hate clowns so much that I become immobile and hypnotized with fear as soon as I see one. I think all clowns should go to clown prison for all of the very real damage they’ve done to America’s youth. I’m convinced that there’s a Clown Underground Network, and if you mess with one, you’re messing with the whole hive. Word gets out. You’re flagged, and if you’re within a five-mile radius of a rainbow fright wig, it will seek you out and trail you relentlessly, trying to give you an imaginary flower. If you take it, you’ve succumbed to the Dark Clown Power. Before you know it, you’ll find yourself trying to stuff seventeen of your friends into a Volkswagen Jetta that you’ve just slapped a multicolored clown pride bumper sticker on!

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Dream

I never believed it possible a guy could love like this. I never believed that I could ever love. Through all my wandering life along the dusty roads, I was not only the one who passed, I was the one who fled, the enemy of the harvest and the field, the enemy of man, enemy of sunshine and of day! Sometimes the fruit of the wayside tree, stolen, not given, left some savor of joy, and sometimes, after many a bitter day, resting at night beneath the stars, the calm repose of heaven would invite and soothe me to a dream of something that might be in my life, like that calm night sky, brooding infinite over my soul – serene! And so tonight, in this enchantment, it seemed to me as if there had come, a calm, a peace into my life – I was dreaming! AH! How I did dream!

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A Peter Pan Experience

When I was eight years old, someone brought me this (...) theatre. Full of lots of other children. We were supposed to be watching a production of Peter Pan. And I remember that something seemed terribly wrong with the whole production. Odd things kept happening. For instance, when the children would fly, the ropes they were on just kept breaking! (...) and the actors would come thumping to the ground and they had to be carried off by stage crew. The crocodile that chases Captain Hook, seemed to be a real crocodile, it wasn’t an actor. You remember how in the second act Tinkerbell drinks some poison that Peter is about to drink in order to save him? And then Peter turns to the audience and he says that, “Tinkerbell is going to die because not enough people believe in fairies, maybe she won’t die.” So, we all started to clap. I clapped so long and so hard that my palms hurt! Then, Peter Pan turns to the audience, “That wasn’t enough. Tinkerbell is dead.” She stomped offstage; we started to cry (...) I think that warped my total sense of life.

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Trinculo’s Monologue

The Tempest - William Shakespeare Trinculo is a jester

Here’s neither bush nor shrub to bear off any weather at all, and another storm brewing: I hear it sing I’ th’ wind. Yond same black cloud, yond huge one, looks like a foul bombard̊ . If it should thunder as it did before, I know not where to hide my head. Yond same cloud cannot choose but fall by pailfuls. What have we here? A man or a fish? Dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fishlike smell; A strange fish! Were I in England now, as once I was, and had but this fish painted̊ , not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver. There would this monster make a man̊ : any strange beast there makes a man. Legged like a man! And his fins like arms! Warm, o’ my troth! I do now let loose my opinion, hold it no longer: this is no fish, but an islander, that hath lately suffered by a thunderbolt. (Thunder.) Alas, the storm has come again! My best way is to creep under his gaberdine: there is no other shelter hereabout. Misery acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows. I will here shroud till the dregs of the storm be past.

Bear off- ward off Bombard- large leather jug Painted- i.e., as a sign hung outside a booth at a fair Make a man- (pun: make a man’s fortune)

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Another Earth Female Stock Character- Isabella, Intelligent and strong. Uses wit and knowledge to get further in life. In this monologue, she tells a story of a man who used his mind to fix something that was bothering him. You know that story of the Russian cosmonaut? So, the cosmonaut, he's the first man ever to go into space. Right? The Russians beat the Americans. So he goes up in this big spaceship, but the only habitable part of it's very small. So the cosmonaut's in there, and he's got this portal window, and he's looking out of it, and he sees the curvature of the Earth for the first time. I mean, the first man to ever look at the planet he's from. And he's lost in that moment. And all of a sudden this strange ticking... (she snaps her fingers over and over again) begins coming out of the dashboard. He rips out the control panel, right? Takes out his tools. Trying to find the sound, trying to stop the sound. But he can't find it. He can't stop it. It keeps going. Few hours into this, begins to feel like torture. A few days go by with this sound, and he knows that this ... small ... sound...will break him. He'll lose his mind. What's he gonna do? He's up in space, alone, in a space closet. He's got 25 days left to go... with this sound. So the cosmonaut decides... the only way to save his sanity... is to fall in love with this sound. So he closes his eyes... and he goes into his imagination, and then he opens them. [she stops the tapping] He doesn't hear ticking any more. He hears music. And he spends the remainder of his time...sailing through space in total bliss... and peace. That was the smart thing to do.

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The Majestic Male Stock Character- Pantalone- The Miser Extraordinaire. Making, keeping, and not spending his money drives his entire being. In the monologue, he talks of his true passion in life, and how the people around him are slowly forgetting to see the wonderful things in life due to their own laziness. That's why we call it The Majestic. Any man, woman, child could buy their ticket, walk right in. Here they'd be, here we'd be. "Yes sir, yes ma'am. Enjoy the show." And in they'd come entering a palace, like in a dream, like in heaven. Maybe you had worries and problems out there, but once you came through those doors, they didn't matter anymore. And you know why? Chaplin, that's why. And Keaton and Lloyd. Garbo, Gable, and Lombard, and Jimmy Stewart and Jimmy Cagney. Fred and Ginger. They were gods. And they lived up there. That was Olympus. Would you remember if I told you how lucky we felt just to be here? To have the privilege of watching them. I mean, this television thing. Why would you want to stay at home and watch a little box? Because it's convenient? Because you don't have to get dressed up, because you could just sit there? I mean, how can you call that entertainment, alone in your living room? Where's the other people? Where's the audience? Where's the magic? I'll tell you, in a place like this, the magic is all around you. The trick is to see it.

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The Perks of Being a Wallflower Male Stock Character: Innamorati, the young lover. A hopeless romantic. Shallow, but drives the plot along. In this monologue, the character describes a long tunnel and the magnificent feeling it gives them. There’s something about that tunnel that leads to downtown. It’s glorious at night. Just glorious. You start on one side of the mountain, and it’s dark, and the radio is loud. As you enter the tunnel, the wind gets sucked away, and you squint from the lights overhead. When you adjust to the lights, you can see the other side in the distance just as the sound of the radio fades because the waves just can’t reach. Then, you’re in the middle of the tunnel, and everything becomes a calm dream. As you see the opening get closer, you just can’t get there fast enough. And finally, just when you think you’ll never get there, you see the opening right in front of you. And the radio comes back even louder than you remember it. And the wind is waiting. And you fly out of the tunnel onto the bridge. And there it is. The city. A million lights and buildings and everything seems as exciting as the first time you saw it. It ’s beautiful. I think that's what falling in love feels like.

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Serendipity Female Taylor Henderson Stock Character: Isabella, The only functional intellect on the stage. Speaks with eloquence. She may be a flirtatious and impudent character, but without losing her judgement. Sara: I've always believed in fate. I've always believed that life is more than a series of meaningless accidents or coincidences. But rather, a tapestry of events that culminate into an exquisite plan. I mean, I just spent the entire flight staring into the sky thinking. Not about my boyfriend that I just broke up with, but about this mystery boy I met years ago. A boy I don't even remember except for this vague picture inside my head. It's just a few seconds, a fragment really, and it's like, in that moment the whole universe existed just to bring us together. We spent only a few precious hours together and I never even gave him my last name or my phone number. Instead, I told him that if we were meant to be together, if fate meant for us to be together, we'd meet again someday. That's why I'm here. That's why I'm going to let fate take me anywhere it wants to go, because when all of this is over, I'll know if I've been right about this mystery boy all along. We're meant to be together. Is that crazy?

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White Oleander Female Rachel Lee Stock Character- Pedrolino, childlike and pitiful, near mute second Zanni. Feels bad for herself. Haunted by the past. Two years after I moved to New York, I received a letter from my mother. In it was a copy of the Los Angeles Times Magazine, my mother on the cover. A Santa Monica gallery had mounted a showing of her work, and the Times included seven pages of her hauntingly distant prison collages. She stares out from the cover, the bars of her cell behind her. Beautiful. Dangerous. Proud. The Times said her lawyer came close to winning a retrial after a first failed appeal, they called her show a triumph. It's too much to imagine her tempering her joy with a moment of grief, a moment for what that triumph had cost. These suitcases are a map of that country, a terrible country I will never revisit. Even so, I find myself thinking of her, wanting to feel that wind. It's a secret wanting, like a song I can't stop humming, or loving someone you can never have. No matter how much she has damaged me, no matter how flawed she is, I know my mother loves me and that's all that matters.

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