The play’s the thing, said Shakespeare, and his meaning has been analyzed and contemplated for hundreds of years. Life’s a game, really, and it’s about learning your lines and playing a role, but does that stop you from fully realizing your potential – or on the flip-side, does it actually help you attain it?
Curtains. Thick. Red. Hanging. And they should be oppressive. The heat from the lights should be a glare. But it isn’t. It is warm. And it is comfort. And it is the only friend she knows. And she knows the wooden floor like she knows the bones in er hand and the scars on her knees.
And I almost forget how much this will hurt in the morning, and I almost forget the resentment built up inside of me. Right now, it doesn’t mater, because I love him more than I love myself. And no matter how much he plays with my heart, it still belongs to him.
A wonderful experience of mine was to go to the theatre and see a play. I leave the theatre feeling both uplifted and yet heart-broken, that I saw such wonder and magic but that I could never be part of it. I wanted so badly to act. To play with the other players, to be part of the playwrights vision. It was a forever longing.
What if someone plays basketball outside of your house and you have left the door open? Which are the chances that the ball will be kicked into your doorplay? For Mr. Sad this was a reason to never leave his door open, even when he sat in his frontyard.
She plays her violin like an ancient artisan which was born and raised in order to fulfill this one particular role. Role that was set for her by fate.
The plays performed by the third formers at our school was fantastic and a sight for all to see. My daughter and her friend took part and did a splendid job indeed. This is what is needed in the schools, activities that will project those positive things that will enhance the life of all in the community.
senorita barcelona
stalkings strung upon a line
she plays the music loudly
as she sips her turpentine
and the movements of her body
shake sounds echoed in the air
causing sighs so lovely
i just hate to sit and stare
don’t play games with a better player
you may easily lose and v\never redeem yourself
you’d never know what goes on in a players mind, for if you are one.. the other sure knows how to strategize..
the boy goes in the park with his mother. with his friend he goes down the slide . there is a cat . they chase her. she is black and jumps around. is funny. They are tired now. The world changes.
The little girl plays with her dolls on the kitchen counter whilst her mother cooks dinner. As she plays with her dolls, the barbie’s clothing rips. “Oh no!” She cries, trying to put the material back together. “I’ll fix it for you later, sweetie” says the mother smiling sweetly.
Well, you’re not supposed to say the name of it. Because it’s bad luck. What? No. No, not that one. You know, the one where everyone goes crazy and he kills his uncle. No. No, they based the Lion King off of it. No. No. No. No it’s the one with MacBeth in it…aw shi-
About 50 thousand plays of the same song. God Moving Over The Face Of The Waters. Probably the biggest piece ever put together, in my opinion. Never were my ears so graced, nor my cheeks so wet.
man joy fear like cute beautiful money fair was before past present future love me that you kind help never ever everyday full bucket yesterday bride pride fly kite air breath swim water god pause period comma essay easy hard difficult
plays are awesome to see. you can the emotion of the script through a play. a play must be enacted properly to keep its audiance grasped.
screen plays do not over come stage plays.
plays that are played on stage involve heavy pe stage planing.
Plays, not usually my gig, but look at the word? Plays. Yes, I play well with others usually and I really like the leisurely activities of life. I am really enjoying being paid to play.
we watch plays on weekend. we enjoy them. some are funny some are serious.i go with my parents to watch them.my friends come too.i also want to be a part of some play
In dilated pupils flashes violent swirls of the cataclysm
It’s the setting, the beginning of a new stage
Volcanic ash slips away on dampening lashes
Tears flood the plains, rivulets work the stains
Springs the moss before the rich red curtains appear
Velvet born again, swept aside is this delicate entry
Husks of silken hoods
To the woods
Through the woods
We’ll find the time to spend, take the time my friend
And feel the ecstasy of these stolen moments till the very end
the children would run about in the park and in the fields. they would run as the sun shone down upon them. the world seemed still if only for a moment. nothing. no pain just the screams of laughter that would echo in my hollow heart
I’ve always loved the theater. It was only until recently that I’ve been able to go to plays, first few in high school and then these last few years in college, watching my friends and boyfriend perform wonderfully. Its a perfect way to gaze into other worlds besides reading, because you can actually see and hear the characters.
Plays.
The happiness of children.
The feeling and pure emotion of a soul.
The emotion of a child.
So confusing.
So Bright.
Can I feel that brightness again?
Can that sunlight burst through my chest again?
I love the way he plays with me. Everything he does is interesting. He always keeps my going. I love the way he plays his music loud so he can drown out the world. I love the way he plays he guitar when he sings me a love song. I love the way he plays with my hair when we’re cuddling in bed.
The plays that were listed on the list were all too modern. What happened to the classics? Did they disappear or were they too overplayed? That’s the world we created.
Something you go see at a theater if you like that sort of thing or if you have friends who are actors and you feel obligated to. They have actors and stuff.
Such great artwork of the human soul.
“By my troth, I care not; a man can die but once; we owe God a death and let it go which way it will, he that dies this year is quit for the next.”
– Henry IV, Part 2 by William Shakespeare
They say the whole world is a stage.
If it is, I’m not destined for the theatre.
The lights are too bright and the audience never claps.
I sweat in the spotlight. The lamps wash out my face.
I’m not destined for the theatre.
The young boy plays with the ball and his mother glances over every so often as she washes the dishes. The ball bounces against the wall and the cat scurries away. The mother lets out a laugh and smiles at her son.
She plays with the sad, slow idea of the life that has yet to be lived. The game of ignorance her only distraction. What is her next move? On a whim she gives in, a painful surrender, but a move nonetheless.
He plays. He plays simply to enjoy the night. The night he would generaly fight. Why he fought the niht puzzled her. How can the peace of the stars and the rise of themoon cause such a struggle to cause someon so much pain.
She sat there contemplating as he played in the shadow of night. She had felt closer to him that night then she had ever before.
Normally she wasnt one to stare but this man kept her gazing through her window at night. The fire a glow in his apartment. The fog crawling across the window pane and his motions fluuid with the music she could only imagine.
What were his sorrows? What were his pains? Why he play in the night? What was his fight?
The play’s the thing, said Shakespeare, and his meaning has been analyzed and contemplated for hundreds of years. Life’s a game, really, and it’s about learning your lines and playing a role, but does that stop you from fully realizing your potential – or on the flip-side, does it actually help you attain it?
Curtains. Thick. Red. Hanging. And they should be oppressive. The heat from the lights should be a glare. But it isn’t. It is warm. And it is comfort. And it is the only friend she knows. And she knows the wooden floor like she knows the bones in er hand and the scars on her knees.
I keep hearing his voice, her voice. Fresh through my head. I’m reeling at the losses. The play I made, the path I must walk.
I keep hearing about all the things I don’t deserve.
Friends, Kindness, Empathy, Happiness.
Maybe I’ll get it for myself.
And I almost forget how much this will hurt in the morning, and I almost forget the resentment built up inside of me. Right now, it doesn’t mater, because I love him more than I love myself. And no matter how much he plays with my heart, it still belongs to him.
Sometimes we never really know if what we see and feel is the reality or if everyone just plays the game…
A wonderful experience of mine was to go to the theatre and see a play. I leave the theatre feeling both uplifted and yet heart-broken, that I saw such wonder and magic but that I could never be part of it. I wanted so badly to act. To play with the other players, to be part of the playwrights vision. It was a forever longing.
What if someone plays basketball outside of your house and you have left the door open? Which are the chances that the ball will be kicked into your doorplay? For Mr. Sad this was a reason to never leave his door open, even when he sat in his frontyard.
She plays her violin like an ancient artisan which was born and raised in order to fulfill this one particular role. Role that was set for her by fate.
pricey, theatrical,passionate,dramatic,Shakespeare,actors,London,Westend,beautiful,realistic,Broadway,singing,dancing,costumes,make up, actors,stage,curtains
The plays performed by the third formers at our school was fantastic and a sight for all to see. My daughter and her friend took part and did a splendid job indeed. This is what is needed in the schools, activities that will project those positive things that will enhance the life of all in the community.
senorita barcelona
stalkings strung upon a line
she plays the music loudly
as she sips her turpentine
and the movements of her body
shake sounds echoed in the air
causing sighs so lovely
i just hate to sit and stare
don’t play games with a better player
you may easily lose and v\never redeem yourself
you’d never know what goes on in a players mind, for if you are one.. the other sure knows how to strategize..
the boy goes in the park with his mother. with his friend he goes down the slide . there is a cat . they chase her. she is black and jumps around. is funny. They are tired now. The world changes.
The little girl plays with her dolls on the kitchen counter whilst her mother cooks dinner. As she plays with her dolls, the barbie’s clothing rips. “Oh no!” She cries, trying to put the material back together. “I’ll fix it for you later, sweetie” says the mother smiling sweetly.
Well, you’re not supposed to say the name of it. Because it’s bad luck. What? No. No, not that one. You know, the one where everyone goes crazy and he kills his uncle. No. No, they based the Lion King off of it. No. No. No. No it’s the one with MacBeth in it…aw shi-
About 50 thousand plays of the same song. God Moving Over The Face Of The Waters. Probably the biggest piece ever put together, in my opinion. Never were my ears so graced, nor my cheeks so wet.
pi was watching a play last night. it was fun. I think they should arrange some more interesting plays in Muscat opera house.
William Shakespeare wrote 37 plays which are very interesting and are still up to date.
man joy fear like cute beautiful money fair was before past present future love me that you kind help never ever everyday full bucket yesterday bride pride fly kite air breath swim water god pause period comma essay easy hard difficult
plays are awesome to see. you can the emotion of the script through a play. a play must be enacted properly to keep its audiance grasped.
screen plays do not over come stage plays.
plays that are played on stage involve heavy pe stage planing.
Plays, not usually my gig, but look at the word? Plays. Yes, I play well with others usually and I really like the leisurely activities of life. I am really enjoying being paid to play.
Every day I read plays but it is better to perform them which I can’t.
we watch plays on weekend. we enjoy them. some are funny some are serious.i go with my parents to watch them.my friends come too.i also want to be a part of some play
In dilated pupils flashes violent swirls of the cataclysm
It’s the setting, the beginning of a new stage
Volcanic ash slips away on dampening lashes
Tears flood the plains, rivulets work the stains
Springs the moss before the rich red curtains appear
Velvet born again, swept aside is this delicate entry
Husks of silken hoods
To the woods
Through the woods
We’ll find the time to spend, take the time my friend
And feel the ecstasy of these stolen moments till the very end
the children would run about in the park and in the fields. they would run as the sun shone down upon them. the world seemed still if only for a moment. nothing. no pain just the screams of laughter that would echo in my hollow heart
I’ve always loved the theater. It was only until recently that I’ve been able to go to plays, first few in high school and then these last few years in college, watching my friends and boyfriend perform wonderfully. Its a perfect way to gaze into other worlds besides reading, because you can actually see and hear the characters.
Plays.
The happiness of children.
The feeling and pure emotion of a soul.
The emotion of a child.
So confusing.
So Bright.
Can I feel that brightness again?
Can that sunlight burst through my chest again?
perhaps there was something
more
to the way Theseus chose
from the list of plays
to have performed at his wedding
a duke displaying his prowess
or a man desiring to impress?
(Amazonian women are hard pressed
to be impressed
when stolen under conquest)
I love the way he plays with me. Everything he does is interesting. He always keeps my going. I love the way he plays his music loud so he can drown out the world. I love the way he plays he guitar when he sings me a love song. I love the way he plays with my hair when we’re cuddling in bed.
The plays that were listed on the list were all too modern. What happened to the classics? Did they disappear or were they too overplayed? That’s the world we created.
Something you go see at a theater if you like that sort of thing or if you have friends who are actors and you feel obligated to. They have actors and stuff.
things that you go see at a theater. With actors and shtuuuuuuff.
I want to write a play sometime…maybe not a broadway production, but it would be a great writing excersice, don’t you think?
Such great artwork of the human soul.
“By my troth, I care not; a man can die but once; we owe God a death and let it go which way it will, he that dies this year is quit for the next.”
– Henry IV, Part 2 by William Shakespeare
“To be or not to be, that is the question.” Darius looked down, obviously not content with his delivery. “Maybe next time I’ll get it right.”
They say the whole world is a stage.
If it is, I’m not destined for the theatre.
The lights are too bright and the audience never claps.
I sweat in the spotlight. The lamps wash out my face.
I’m not destined for the theatre.
And so the question arises; will you hold me? Will anyone stay? My lips tremble as they form the ‘Hallelujah’.
The song plays over and over, but the crying doesn’t stop.
The young boy plays with the ball and his mother glances over every so often as she washes the dishes. The ball bounces against the wall and the cat scurries away. The mother lets out a laugh and smiles at her son.
She plays with the sad, slow idea of the life that has yet to be lived. The game of ignorance her only distraction. What is her next move? On a whim she gives in, a painful surrender, but a move nonetheless.
He plays. He plays simply to enjoy the night. The night he would generaly fight. Why he fought the niht puzzled her. How can the peace of the stars and the rise of themoon cause such a struggle to cause someon so much pain.
She sat there contemplating as he played in the shadow of night. She had felt closer to him that night then she had ever before.
Normally she wasnt one to stare but this man kept her gazing through her window at night. The fire a glow in his apartment. The fog crawling across the window pane and his motions fluuid with the music she could only imagine.
What were his sorrows? What were his pains? Why he play in the night? What was his fight?