You come in off the street, through the doors of the theater. You sit down. The lights go down and the curtain goes up. And you're in another world.
quote by Robert Caro
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Well, I go to the theater today, and its curtain - there is no curtain in this play; the lights go down and go up - and we start. And I live this character for two hours. There are only two of us in the play. And It's a complete experience.
quote by Eli Wallach
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Art Of Life
If anyone believes,
The one standing alone...
Taking the heat under spotlight,
Runs the show...
Hasn't met the director or the producer,
The manager, assistant manager.
The script writer, agent, publicist...
And a host of others behind the scenes.
If anyone believes,
The one standing alone...
Taking the heat under spotlight,
Runs the show...
Doesn't know theater.
Or who calls the shots,
To enable any light to shine
And be spotted anywhere.
Theater is staged.
No matter whose name is on the marquee,
To sell the tickets.
Theater is staged.
And the best acts are trained to fill the seats.
If one knew theater,
One would know the art of life.
And the importance of having not only a good director...
But one with the bucks,
Who can keep the production afloat long enough to seduce...
Is the key to selling an audience sold on what they see,
Until the curtain drops to signal the end of the performance.
Taken from its natural habitat to be staged,
The art of life...
Is only theater to delude and to captivate believers.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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On the other side of the blue curtain
Every day
the blue curtain appears,
unless white clouds
linen it off.
At dusk
the blue curtain,
disappears when it becomes transparent.
On the other side of the blue curtain
lies lights of ruby, sapphire and emerald
which appears in the heaven
and the black becomes full of dots
that twinkles and sparkles
and disappear
when the sun rises.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Homeless.
At the midnight, when street lights make
chiaroscuro on the face of unknown straggler,
someone raps on the door 'are you home, my sweetheart? '
He stands-like a lonely tree on meditation,
like a wind rustling through the leaves,
like an old refrain 'are you home? '
The sweet pain numbs my heart for a while-
the moon with pale face rises behind the curtain,
someone plays a note of my saddest dream,
a high wind from the sea blows away the curtain-
I stood naked before the night with awful question,
' are you home, my dear? '
poem by Aloke Mukherjee
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In The Palm Of Your Hand
I kept the ticket stub-
......And everything else from-
...Our last theater date;
I am remembering it again-nostalgic;
That once entrancing scene-
......The tenderness
....That had wedged itself
...Inside of my psyche
Bursting itself open-an eternal flame;
Today i look for anything that reminds
.........Me of act two-
...And the Stage of our relationship
...Before the curtain call...
...That had me in the palm of your hand-
...And craving much more;
Alas, remembering has its negatives;
...........I become disturbed!
...For the theater and all of its flame-filled thoughts-
...All become wrong!
..........For at the very last-
...The Fat Lady Has Sung Her Song;
poem by Theodora Onken
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Lighting a Memorial Candle for One of the Six Million
Even if I could light six million lights
I could not rekindle your light
And your’s was only one
Not one in a million
But one of six million
Snuffed out, blown out, crushed out
Lights
“Let there be light” and the world was full of light
And your light brought light to your world
Your home
Your family
Your street
Your town
Each year
Until the darkness came
And put out all the lights.
So now I stand
Match in hand
To light a light
Not your light for you
But your light for me
To brighten my world
My home
My family
My street
My town
Each year
Until the darkness is no more
And the world is full of light.
poem by Lewis Eron
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I've never had any feeling of disconnection between the classical theater, or the contemporary theater, or musical theater, or the thing that we call opera.
quote by Trevor Nunn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At The Ballet
Sitting in darkness
Waiting for dancers,
I’m alone and desperate
At the ballet.
Your husband is a rogue,
Showcasing an elegant wife
While tasting other treats
Along an avenue of illicit pastries.
But I’m the one in love,
Sinking into madness and utter despair
At the sight of you
In the theater you adore the best.
When the final curtain falls,
The lights will rise
And you’ll walk away.
I’ll gaze fondly at every footstep
Until my heart disappears.
Later, at home,
My bed will swim
In the wet intense fever
That unceasingly grips my existence.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Theatre Of Dreams
Oh can I lie here, can I whisper; can I tell
you anything that you want to hear,
Is it thoughts, is it feelings, is it what you
need, can I make you feel good,
It's just something that I thought that
you'd like, in a world that's dying,
Oh I can see you smiling. Oh, can I do this
for you?
In the pale and lonely light you feel so
exciting ah,
I fail the words, I need to speak to tell you
how,
You can love who you love, you can be who
you want, in the theater of dreams,
Oh, you can love who you love, you can be
who you want, in the theater of dreams. In
the theater of dreams.
Oh can I touch you, can I hold you, I can
do anything, that you want me to,
Does it hurt, is it OK is it what you need to
make you feel good,
I got something that I think that you'd like,
in a world that's changing,
Oh I can feel you smiling, Oh can I do this
for you?
In a pale and lonely life, you seem so
exciting ah,
I fail the words, I need to speak to tell you
how.
You can love who you love, you can be who
you want, in the theater of dreams.
Oh, you can love who you love, you can be
who you want, in the theater of dreams.
This is where you open up your mind, yeah.
This is where you lose, lose your chains of
time.
In the theater of dreams.
poem by Pawan Kumar 'Meonlafesta'
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Packt Like Sardines In A Crushd Tin Box
there are bomb? doors and there are revolving doors doors on the rudders of big ships and there are revolving doors there are doors that open by themselves there are sliding doors and there are secret doors there are doors that lock and doors that don't there are doors that let you in and out but never open but there are trap doors that you can't come back from
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Street Light
The shine of many city streets
Confuses any countryman;
It flickers here and flashes there,
It goes as soon as it began,
It beckons many ways at once
For him to follow if he can.
Under the lamp a woman stands,
The lamps are shining equal well,
But in her eyes are other lights,
And lights plus other lights will tell:
He loves the brightness of that street
Which is the shining street to hell.
There's light enough, and strong enough,
To lighten every pleasant park;
I'm sorry lights are held so cheap,
I'd rather there were not a spark
Than choose those shining ways for joy
And have them lead me into dark.
poem by John Crowe Ransom
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Pull / Pulk Revolving Doors
There are barn doors
And there are revolving doors
Doors on the rudders of big ships
And there are revolving doors
There are doors that open by themselves
There are sliding doors
And there are secret doors
There are doors that lock
And doors that dont
There are doors that let you in
And out
But never open
But there are trapdoors
That you cant come back from
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pull Pulk Revolving Doors
There are barn doors
And there are revolving doors
Doors on the rudders of big ships
We are revolving doors
There are doors that open by themselves
There are sliding doors
And there are secret doors
There are doors that lock
And doors that don't
There are doors that let you in
And out
But never open
But they are trapdoors
That you can't come back from
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Because of the power of television, I was visible to everybody all over the world. But there are many things in the theater that are more fulfilling and that I look forward to doing more. But really, I love it all: theater, film, television.
quote by Charlotte Rae
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Street of Sorrow
It's time to wake up, stand up in any given city
It seems the lights have all gone to bed
and the rain pours hard into my mind
and then it hits me
move so fast, rain drops pass
left standing dry with dread
Bury the story, suppress the sanity
Moving down the street of sorrow
No street lights, kick againt the stones
walking down the street of sorrow
Another given moment the cauldren boils
and then the slag begins to rise
The moulten Mass pours on bended knees
Impurities melt and burn away
Pray at last madness pass
There is always one who'll bleed
Bury the story, suppress the sanity
Moving down the street of sorrow
No street lights, kick againt the stones
walking down the street of sorrow
poem by Barbara Vanier
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O, Curtain Boy...my Curtain Boy!
i'm the stage
i'm the setting
i'm the play
i'm the actor
i'm the green room, too
but how's it you kept
the command ove the
curtain in your hands?
o, curtain boy!
my curtain boy...
don't you see
the stage's developing cracks?
the setting's getting ruined?
the lines're getting broken?
the actor's growing weary?
the greenroom floor is all smudged
with the colours of spent out emotions?
o, curtain boy...
my curtain boy!
30aug2009
00.40hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Behind Closed Doors
My baby makes me proud
Lord, don't she make me proud
she never makes a scene
By hangin' all over me in a crowd
'Cause people like to talk
Lord, don't they love to talk
But when they turn out the lights
I know she'll be leavin' with me
And when we get behind closed doors
Then she let's her hair hang down
And she makes me glad that I'm a man
Oh, no one knows what goes on behind closed doors
My baby makes me smile
Lord, don't she make me smile
she's never far away
Or too tired to say I want you
She's always a lady
Just like a lady should be
But when they turn out the lights
She's still my baby to me
'Cause when we get behind closed doors
Then she let's her hair hang down
And she makes me glad I'm a man
Oh, no one knows what goes on behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
song performed by by Charlie Rich, lyrics by Kenny O'Dell from Behind Closed Doors (1973)
Submitted by Jeffrey Kosloske
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An Accident
Among the rain
and lights
I saw the figure of a woman
hazy in the rain
against the furious lights of the car
in the middle of the city
it is tense
i mean the feeling when you are
in the middle of the street and it is raining
and there are furious lights of the car
on a busy street
and what you see
is the figure of a woman
against the howls
of the sirens of the ambulance
and people running
wanting to see
what happens finally
inside that
yellow line
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I've always wanted to do theater in Chicago. Chicago is a big theater town-and, in some ways, I think this city is savvier and smarter than New York. Sometimes, I think it's a little too chic to go to theater in New York these days.
quote by Jeffrey Donovan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Curtain call
Curtain call
~
A show as long as a life
Written in the script of the unknown
The mysterious bard has foretold
The final curtain call
~
The closing act is well underway
The last scene about to begin
Soon the lights shall dim to blackness
And the curtains shall fall to close
The lead bystander is all but done
A role written to an end
~
This has been no great story
A simple forgetful tale if told true
The mild tragedy of a few events
Within the comedy of it all
The final performance, a swansong
Then all shall be done
~
Once it is over and the curtain falls
The audience shall rise to leave
With a clatter of chairs ringing out
A dull applause
poem by Matthew Holloway
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