Do you know what a playwright is? A playwright is someone who lets his guts hang out on the stage.
Edward AlbeeRead
Every monster was a man first.
Interpretation
This quote suggests that all individuals have the capacity for both good and evil, and that adversity can shape one's nature.
Edward Albee's quote 'Every monster was a man first' reflects the idea that every person has a history and circumstances that contribute to their current state. It implies that behaviors perceived as monstrous often stem from experiences, choices, and societal influences, urging us to consider the humanity behind actions that we might deem as inhumane.
In practice
In a discussion about redemption and change, this quote can highlight the themes of understanding one's past.
Do you know what a playwright is? A playwright is someone who lets his guts hang out on the stage.
When a critic sets himself up as an arbiter of morality, a judge of the matter and not the manner of a work, he is no longer a critic; he is a censor.
I am convinced that no one is fully educated without a full grounding in the arts.
Good writers define reality; bad ones merely restate it.
Remember one thing about democracy. We can have anything we want and at the same time, we always end up with exactly what we deserve.
Your source material is the people you know, not those you don't know, but every character is an extension of the author's own personality.
Men grow tired of sleep, love, singing and dancing sooner than of war.
Capitalism itself is not to be condemned. And surely it is not vicious of its very nature, but it has been vitiated.
it is hard for anyone who is dissatisfied not to blame some one else, and especially the person nearest of all to him, for the ground of his dissatisfaction.
Every religion is goodβevery religion is true to him who in his good caution and conscience believes it.
There's only one day at a time here, then it's tonight and then tomorrow will be today again.
But in the expression of the countenance, which was beaming all over with smiles, there still lurked (incomprehensible anomalyl) that fitful strain of melancholy which will ever be found inseparable from the perfection of the beautiful.
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