a streetcar named desire - blanche

And funerals are pretty…

And funerals are pretty compared to deaths. Funerals are quiet, but deaths-not always.

Her delicate beauty..

[Her delicate beauty must avoid a strong light. There is something about her uncertain manner, as well as her white clothes, that suggests a moth.]

I don’t want realism…

I don't want realism. I want magic! Yes, yes, magic! I try to give that to people. I misrepresent things to them. I don't tell truth, I tell what ought to be truth.

Whoever you are…

Whoever you are-I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.

I can’t stand a naked light bulb…

I can't stand a naked light bulb, any more than I can a rude remark or a vulgar action.

But some things are not forgivable…

But some things are not forgivable. Deliberate cruelty is not forgivable.

After the death of Allan…

After the death of Allan-intimacies with strangers was all I seemed able to fill my empty heart with…I think it was panic, just panic, that drove me from one to another, hunting for some protection.

The sound of this new voice shocks Blanche…

[The sound of this new voice shocks Blanche. She makes a shocked gesture, forming his name with her lips.]

Sorrows make for…

Sorrows make for sincerity, I think.

Poems a dead boy wrote…

Poems a dead boy wrote. I hurt him the way that you would like to hurt me, but you can't!

But, honey, you know as well as I do…

But, honey, you know as well as I do that a single girl, a girl alone in the world, has got to keep a firm hold on her emotions or she'll be lost!