Welcome to Theatre Thursdays. I'm your host, Cynical Nymph. On Theatre Thursdays we'll take a moment to appreciate female monologues in theatre, because a modern feminist with an utterly dusty B.F.A. in Drama has to do something with it, right? Let's have at it. Theatre Thursdays, First Installment.
MRS. ANTROBUS: (She flings something - invisible to us - far over the heads of the audience to the back of the auditorium.) It's a bottle. And in the bottle's a letter. And in the letter is written all the things a woman knows. It's never been told to any man and it's never been told to any woman, and if it finds its destination, a new time will come. We're not what books and plays say we are. We're not in the movies and we're not on the radio. We're not what you're all told and what you think we are. We're ourselves. And if any man can find one of us he'll learn why the whole universe was set in motion. And if any man harm one of us, his soul - the only soul he's got - had better be at the bottom of that ocean - and that's the only way to put it.
The Skin of Our Teeth, Act II
by Thornton Wilder