Sarah Ruhl Quotes

Motherhood is a predicament. How to live fully inside of it with any grace?

You say a prayer, Virginia. A prayer cleans the air the way water cleans the dirt.

American actors are taught to have objectives — what does your character want from the other character? That is business. When I deal with other people, I don’t want something from them; I want a rapport. Some people say that’s an objective — it’s not — it’s a sensation of well-being. Life is not constantly about wanting to get something from somebody else. Life is about pleasure.” I hope, dear Irene, that you are in a sensation of well-being

When you snatch happiness in little bits, fits and starts, and lose it, like me, you become coarse, little by little, you become hateful.

Love is unbounded by time

"the theater is one of the few places left in the bright and noisy world where we sit in the quiet dark together, to be awake."

Ruhl, Sarah. 100 Essays I Don't Have Time to Write: On Umbrellas and Sword Fights, Parades and Dogs, Fire Alarms, Children, and Theater (p. 103). Faber & Faber. Kindle Edition.

And I think, as I’m surrounded by teeming life — parasites, fish, and children — I think, So, you thought you wanted to observe life? Motherhood shakes her head, clenches her fists, and demands, No, you must live it.

I would like to curl up and become a small thing. About this big. And still. Very still. Have you ever become so melancholy, that you wanted to fit in the palm of your beloved’s hand? And lie there, for fortnights, or decades, or the length of time between stars? In complete silence?

There was an abundance of sweetness. But I often felt I was observing it from a distance, rather than participating in the sweetness.

A perfect joke is somewhere between an angel and a fart.

ORPHEUS: How will you remember?

EURYDICE: That I love you?

ORPHEUS: Yes.

EURYDICE: That's easy. I can't help it.

Mothers and daughters: two circles, and the all-important bounded sections where they are complete unto themselves. Daughters perhaps have a tendency to point at the differences, mothers to point at the commonalities.

Do you not think, Mrs. Givings, that snow is always kind? Because it has to fall slowly, to meet the ground slowly, or the eyelash slowly — And things that meet each other slowly are kind.

This is what it is to love an artist: The moon is always rising above your house. The houses of your neighbors look dull and lacking in moonlight. But he is always going away from you. Inside his head there is always something more beautiful.

I see it as my job to mourn him until the day I die.