“ISMENE: How can I live alone, without her?CREON: Her? Don't even mention her-- she no longer exists.ISMENE: What? You'd kill your own son's bride?CREON: Absolutely: there are other fields for him to plow.”

“Sentry: King, may I speak?Creon: Your very voice distresses me.Sentry: Are you sure that it is my voice, and not your conscience?Creon: By God, he wants to analyze me now!Sentry: It is not what I say, but what has been done, that hurts you.Creon: You talk too much.”

“That's the beauty of the cure. No one mentions those lost, hot days in the field, when Thomas kissed Rachel's tears away and invented worlds just so he could promise them to her, when she tore the skin off her own arm at the thought of living without him.”

“I was born to share love, not hate”, said Antigone. “Go then, and share your love for the dead”, responds Creon.”

“She could no longer see herself without him somewhere in her life, & there was no one she could even imagine being her 1st besides him.”

“She starkly sees her inanimate future blocked out before her right through to her own end—without him... ...and worst of all, she knows she will be asked about him and be called upon to talk about him and tell the story again and again...her jaws will work without end with all that talking her jaws will chew up the ravel of all her remaining life, telling the same story until it becomes bare and alien and something blunt to her; more the belonging of other people, and no longer hers. Now she has to live ordinarily...she's going to have to numb herself if she's going to go on—no going on from this point without getting numb.”