PLAYS: FIRST SERIES:
THE SILVER BOX /gutenberg/etext01/silbx10.txt
PASSAGES FROM THE TEXT:
I've no patience with your talk of reform—all that nonsense about social policy. We know perfectly well what it is they want; they want things for themselves. Those Socialists and Labour men are an absolutely selfish set of people. They have no sense of patriotism, like the upper classes; they simply want what we've got.
I quite agree with what this man says: Education is simply ruining the lower classes. It unsettles them, and that's the worst thing for us all. I see an enormous difference in the manner of servants.
He 's not a bad man really. Sometimes he'll speak quite kind to me, but I've stood so much from him, I don't feel it in me to speak kind back, but just keep myself to myself.
JOY /gutenberg/etext01/gljoy10.txt
PASSAGES FROM THE TEXT:
If only I could believe I was necessary to you!
Ah, my dear! We're all the same; we're all as hollow as that tree! When it's ourselves it's always a special case!
Positive cool voice of a young man who knows that he knows everything.
He is perfectly calm.
They must go their own ways, poor things! She can't put herself in the child's place, and the child can't put herself in Molly's. A woman and a girl—there's the tree of life between them!
Ashamed? Am I to live all my life like a dead woman because you're ashamed? Am I to live like the dead because you 're a child that knows nothing of life? Listen, Joy, you 'd better understand this once for all. Your Father has no right over me and he knows it. We 've been hateful to each other for years. Can you understand that? Don't cover your face like a child—look at me.
STRIFE /gutenberg/etext01/strif10.txt
PASSAGES FROM THE TEXT:
ENID. [In a changed voice, stroking his sleeve.] Father, you know you oughtn't to have this strain on you—you know what Dr. Fisher said! ANTHONY. No old man can afford to listen to old women.
I am not aware that if my adversary suffer in a fair fight not sought by me, it is my fault. If I fall under his feet—as fall I may—I shall not complain. That will be my look-out—and this is—his. I cannot separate, as I would, these men from their women and children. A fair fight is a fair fight! Let them learn to think before they pick a quarrel!
These are the words of my own son. They are the words of a generation that I don't understand; the words of a soft breed.
It seems the fashion nowadays for men to take their enemy's side. I have not learnt that art.
PLAYS: SECOND SERIES:
THE ELDEST SON /gutenberg/etext01/eldsn10.txt
PASSAGES FROM THE TEXT:
….whose choleric autocracy is veiled by a thin urbanity.
But I don't see the use in drawin' hard and fast rules. You only have to break 'em.
Yes, I know. Women always get the worst of these things. That's natural.
Because I'm a rotter in one way, I'm not necessarily a rotter in all.
THE LITTLE DREAM /gutenberg/etext01/ldrem10.txt
PASSAGES FROM THE TEXT:
"You have all the world; and I have nothing."—"Except Felsman, and the mountains."—"It is not good to eat only bread."
The life of men in crowds is mine—of lamplight in the streets at dawn.
[Softly] I have a thousand loves, and never one too long.
There is religion so deep that no man knows what it means. There is religion so shallow, you may have it by turning a handle. We have everything.
JUSTICE /gutenberg/etext01/justc10.txt
PASSAGES FROM THE TEXT:
According to you, no one would ever prosecute.
"I shouldn't be surprised if he was tempted."—"Life's one long temptation…."
But is a man to be lost because he is bred and born with a weak character? Gentlemen, men like the prisoner are destroyed daily under our law for want of that human insight which sees them as they are, patients, and not criminals. If the prisoner be found guilty, and treated as though he were a criminal type, he will, as all experience shows, in all probability become one.
PLAYS: THIRD SERIES:
THE FUGITIVE /gutenberg/etext01/fugtv10.txt
An upright, well-groomed, grey-moustached, red-faced man of sixty-seven, with a keen eye for molehills, and none at all for mountains.
Blessed be the respectable! May they dream of—me! And blessed be all men of the world! May they perish of a surfeit of—good form!
Besides, I oughtn't to have married if I wasn't going to be happy. You see, I'm not a bit misunderstood or ill-treated. It's only….
Very likely—the first birds do. But if she drops half-way it's better than if she'd never flown. Your sister, sir, is trying the wings of her spirit, out of the old slave market. For women as for men, there's more than one kind of dishonour, Captain Huntingdon, and worse things than being dead.
Do you know, Clare, I think it's awful about you! You're too fine, and not fine enough, to put up with things; you're too sensitive to take help, and you're not strong enough to do without it. It's simply tragic.
I've often noticed parsons' daughters grow up queer. Get too much morality and rice puddin'.
LINES FROM THE TEXT:
>From exchanging ideas to something else, isn't very far
It isn't to be manufactured, is it?
Keen eye for molehills, and none at all for mountains
Love liberty in those who don't belong to us
Made up my mind to go back to my owner
May they perish of a surfeit of—good form!
Never apologize
Out of the old slave market
Thorough-bred mongrel
Too fine, and not fine enough
THE PIGEON /gutenberg/etext01/pigon10.txt
PASSAGES FROM THE TEXT:
Monsieur, you have there the greatest comedy of life! How anxious are the tame birds to do the wild birds good. [His voice changes.] For the wild birds it is not funny. There is in some human souls, Monsieur, what cannot be made tame.
If she is dead! What fortune!
I am not good for her—it is not good for simple souls to be with those who see things clear. For the great part of mankind, to see anything—is fatal.
To be so near to death has done me good; I shall not lack courage any more till the wind blows on my grave.
We wild ones—we know a thousand times more of life than ever will those sirs. They waste their time trying to make rooks white. Be kind to us if you will, or let us alone like Mees Ann, but do not try to change our skins.
LINES FROM THE TEXT:
Drink certainly changing thine to mine
How anxious are the tame birds to do the wild birds good
If she is dead! What fortune!
La mort—le grand ami
Not good for simple souls to be with those who see things clear
Nothing that gives more courage than to see the irony
Quiet delight of an English artist actually understood
Tame birds pluck wild birds naked
Waste their time trying to make rooks white
We all have our discrepancies, Vicar
When all is done, there are always us hopeless ones
Without that, Monsieur, all is dry as a parched skin of orange
THE MOB /gutenberg/etext01/glmob10.txt
PASSAGES FROM THE TEXT:
"There are very excellent reasons for the Government's policy."—"There are always excellent reasons for having your way with the weak."
"Nations can't let each other alone."—"Big ones could let little ones alone."—"If they could there'd be no big ones."
Half-shy, half-bold manners, alternately rude and over polite.
Is a man only to hold beliefs when they're popular?
Mob is just conglomerate essence of simple men.
My country, right or wrong! Guilty—still my country!
LINES FROM THE TEXT:
Conglomerate excrescence
Contradictious eyebrows
If they could there'd be no big ones
Law that governs the action of all mobs—the law of Force
Let no man stand to his guns in face of popular attack
Nations are bad judges of their honour
People so wide apart don't love
Popular opinion is to control the utterances of her politicians
To fight to a finish; knowing you must be beaten
We must show Impudence at last that Dignity is not asleep
PLAYS: FOURTH SERIES:
A BIT O' LOVE /gutenberg/etext01/bolov10.txt
PASSAGES FROM THE TEXT:
But 'tes no yuse espectin' tu much o' this world. 'Tes a funny place.
I never thought to luse 'er. She never told me 'ow bad she was, afore she tuk to 'er bed. 'Tis a dreadful thing to luse a wife, zurr.
A faint smile hovers about his lips that Nature has made rather full and he has made thin, as though keeping a hard secret; but his bright grey eyes, dark round the rim, look out and upwards almost as if he were being crucified. There is something about the whole of him that makes him seen not quite present. A gentle creature, burnt within.
It isn't enough to love people because they're good to you, or because in some way or other you're going to get something by it. We have to love because we love loving.
THE FOUNDATIONS /gutenberg/etext01/fndat10.txt
PASSAGES FROM THE TEXT:
You send 'er the ten bob a week wivaht syin' anyfink, an' she'll fink it comes from Gawd or the Gover'ment yer cawn't tell one from t'other in Befnal Green.
"She's awfully virtuous, though, isn't she?"—"'Tisn't so much the bein' virtuous, as the lookin' it, that's awful."
THE PRESS shakes his head. Still—it's an easy life! I've regretted sometimes that I didn't have a shot at it myself; influencin' other people without disclosin' your identity—something very attractive about that.
If I'd bin Prime Minister I'd 'ave 'ad the Press's gas cut 'orf at the meter. Puffect liberty, of course, nao Censorship; just sy wot yer like- -an' never be 'eard of no more.
THE SKIN GAME /gutenberg/etext01/skgam10.txt
PASSAGES FROM THE TEXT:
It takes generations to learn to live and let live.
My dear, I always let people have the last word. It makes them—feel funny.
When we began this fight, we had clean hands—are they clean now? What's gentility worth if it can't stand fire?
When I deceived him, I'd have deceived God Himself—I was so desperate. You've never been right down in the mud. You can't understand what I've been through.
Ye talk about good form and all that sort o' thing. It's just the comfortable doctrine of the man in the saddle; sentimental varnish.
SIX SHORT PLAYS:
THE FIRST AND THE LAST /gutenberg/etext01/flast10.txt
PASSAGES FROM THE TEXT:
Perhaps he was hungry. I have been hungry: you do things then that you would not.
Millions suffer for no mortal reason.
Poor child! When we die, Wanda, let's go together. We should keep each other warm out in the dark.
I tell you she's devoted. Did you ever pick up a lost dog? Well, she has the lost dog's love for me. And I for her; we picked each other up.
We shall be free in the dark; free of their cursed inhumanities. I hate this world—I loathe it! I hate its God-forsaken savagery; its pride and smugness! Keith's world—all righteous will-power and success.
THE LITTLE MAN /gutenberg/etext01/ltman10.txt
We allow more freedom to the individual soul. Where there's something little and weak, we feel it kind of noble to give up to it. That way we feel elevated.
I judge a hero is just a person that'll help another at the expense of himself.
I guess you've got to pinch those waiters some to make 'em skip.
I guess you don't know how good you are.
You are typical, sir, of the sentiments of modern Christianity.
FOUR OF THE SIX SHORT PLAYS /gutenberg/etext01/shply10.txt
Hall-Marked
Defeat
The Sun
Punch and Go
PASSAGES FROM THE TEXTS:
Why don't we live, instead of writing of it? [She points out unto the moonlight] What do we get out of life? Money, fame, fashion, talk, learning? Yes. And what good are they? I want to live!
I don't hate even the English—I despise them. I despise my people too; even more, because they began this war. Oh! I know that. I despise all the peoples. Why haf they made the world so miserable—why haf they killed all our lives—hundreds and thousands and millions of lives—all for noting?