Arthur Miller
Arthur Miller
Arthur Asher Millerwas a prolific American playwright, essayist, and prominent figure in twentieth-century American theatre. Among his most popular plays are All My Sons, Death of a Salesman, The Crucibleand A View from the Bridge. He also wrote several screenplays and was most noted for his work on The Misfits. The drama Death of a Salesman is often numbered on the short list of finest American plays in the 20th century alongside Long Day's Journey into Night and A Streetcar...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPlaywright
Date of Birth17 October 1915
CityNew York City, NY
CountryUnited States of America
Let you look sometimes for the goodness in me, and judge me not.
Life is an endless, truly endless struggle. There's no time when we're going to arrive at a plateau where the whole thing gets sorted. It's a struggle in the way every plant has to find it's own way to stand up straight. A lot of the time it's a failure. And yet it's not a failure if some enlightenment comes from it.
A suicide kills two people . . . that's what it's for.
I know you're no worse than most men but I thought you were better. I never saw you as a man. I saw you as my father.
I love her too, but our neuroses just don't match.
Great stones they lay upon his chest until he plead aye or nay. They say he give them but two words. "More weight," he says. And died.
It is rare for people to be asked the question which puts them squarely in front of themselves
Flight Reservation Systems decide whether or not you exist. If your information isn't in their database, then you simply don't get to go anywhere.
... if you love your country why is it necessary to hate other countries?
When any creativity becomes useful, it is sucked into the vortex of commercialism, and when a thing becomes commercial, it becomes the enemy of man.
Cleave to no faith when faith brings blood.
Suicide kills two people.
In his play depicting the Salem Witch Trials, the author illustrates profound psychological bullying. The ringleader of young girls suspected of unsavory conduct, frightens her friends into silence by warning: Now, look you; All of you. We danced. And Tituba conjured Ruth Putnam's dead sisters, and that was all. ... Let either of you breathe a word, or the edge of a word, about the other things, and I will come to you in the black of some terrible night, and I will bring a pointy reckoning that will shudder you.
I am bewildered by the death of love. And my responsibility for it.