10 Examples of Monologue about Life

A monologue about life it is a discourse in which a single participant reflects or talks with himself about his own existence or about that of the human being.

The monologue it is carried out by a single person or by a single character who, through affirmations, questions and answers, ponders or meditates about the condition of people, the reason for being of the human species, everyday life, their thoughts, their feelings or their history.

Monologues are generally found in dramatic, poetic, and narratives and, thanks to them, readers and viewers can learn about the psychological characteristics of the characters.

There are three types of monologues:

Examples of monologue about life

1. fragment of Life is a Dream, by Pedro Calderon de la Barca. The character reflects on his existence and on the illusion and the dream of life.

SEGISMUNDO: It's true; so let's repress
this fierce condition,
this fury, this ambition
In case we ever dream
And yes we will, because we are
in such a unique world,
that living alone is dreaming;

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and experience teaches me
that the man who lives dreams
what is until wake up.
The king who is king dreams, and lives
with this deception commanding,
disposing and governing;
and this applause that he receives
borrowed, in the wind writes,
and turns him into ashes
death (strong misfortune!);
that there are those who try to reign,
seeing that he has to wake up
in the sleep of death!
The rich man dreams of his wealth
that more care offers you;
the poor sufferer dreams
their misery and their poverty;
dreams the one who begins to grow,
dreams the one who strives and pretends,
he who offends and offends dreams;
and in the world, in conclusion;
everyone dreams what they are,
Although no one understands it.
I dream that I am here
these prisons loaded,
and I dreamed that in another state
the more flattering I saw myself.
What is life? a frenzy
What is life? An illusion,
a shadow, a fiction,
and the greatest good is small;
that all life is a dream,
and dreams are dreams.

1. Excerpt from "The mark on the wall", by Virginia Woolf. The character reflects on the existence and knowledge of life.

But when it comes to the brand, I'm really not sure. After all, I don't think it was a mark left by a nail; it was too big, too round. I could have gotten up, but if he got up and looked at her, there was a ten to one chance I wouldn't know for sure; because when you do something you never know how it happened. Oh yes, the mystery of life, the inaccuracy of thought... The ignorance of mankind... To show how little control we have over our possessions—how accidental it is our life, after so much civilization—allow me to enumerate a few things among all the things we lose throughout our lives, beginning with the loss we has always seemed to me the most mysterious of all: which cat is capable of chewing or which mouse is capable of gnawing, three pale blue bookbinding tool cases books? Then came the cases of bird cages, iron hoops, metal skates, Queen Anne-style charcoal pot, the trifle board, the barrel organ... all gone, and also the jewerly.

1. fragment of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, by William Shakespeare. The character reflects on life, death, reason, revenge, conscience and the existence of the human being.

HAMLET To be, or not to be, that is the question. What is a more worthy action of the spirit, to suffer the penetrating shots of unjust fortune, or to oppose the arms to this torrent of calamities, and put an end to them with daring resistance? To die is to sleep. No more? And by a dream, shall we say, afflictions are over and pains without number, heritage of our weak nature... This is a term that we should eagerly apply for. To die is to sleep... and perhaps to dream. Yes, and see here the great obstacle, because considering what dreams can occur in the silence of the tomb, when we have abandoned this mortal remains, is a very powerful reason to stop us. This is the consideration that makes our unhappiness so long. Who, if it were not this, would put up with the slowness of the courts, the insolence of the employees, the outrages that the merit of the most unworthy men, the anguish of a poorly paid love, the injuries and injuries of age, the violence of tyrants, the contempt of proud? When the one that suffers, he could procure the stillness of it with only a dagger. Who could tolerate so much oppression, sweating, groaning under the weight of a troublesome life, were it not that the fear that there is something more beyond Death (that unknown country from whose limits no traveler returns) embarrasses us in doubts and makes us suffer the evils that fence; before going to look for others of which we are not sure? This foresight makes cowards of us all, so the natural tint of courage is weakened by the pale varnishes of prudence, the companies of greater importance for this sole consideration change path, are not executed and are reduced to vain designs.

1. fragment of Passion according to G.H.by Clarice Lispector. The character reflects on life, existence, reality and narration.

Yesterday, however, I lost my human montage for hours and hours. If he had courage, he would let me stay lost. But I fear what is new and I fear living what I do not understand; I always want to have the guarantee of at least thinking that I understand, I don't know how to surrender to disorientation. How to explain that my greatest fear is precisely related to being? And yet it is the only way. How do you explain that my greatest fear is precisely that of living what is happening? How do you explain that I can't bear to see, just because life is not what I thought but another? As if I had known before what it was! Why does seeing produce such disorganization?

(...) I want to know what, by losing, I have gained. For now I don't know: only by reviving myself is how I'm going to live.

But how to revive me? If I don't have a natural word to say. Will I have to fabricate my word as if what happened to me was to create?

I will create what has happened to me. Just because living cannot be narrated. Living is not livable. I will have to create about life. And without lying. Create yes, lie no. Creating is not imagination, it is running the great risk of accessing reality. Understanding is a creation, my only way. I will need with effort to translate telegraphic signals, translate the unknown into a language I do not know, and without even understanding what the signals are for. I will speak in that sleepwalking language which, if I were awake, would not be a language.

1. fragment of Waiting for Godotby Samuel Beckett. The character seeks to show the impossibility of defining what life and existence are.

LUCKY: Given the existence, as demonstrated by the recent public works of Poinçon and Wattmann, of a personal bearded quaquacuacuacuacuaco God white cuacua outside the time of space that from the height of his divine apathy his divine aphasia his divine aphasia loves us very much with some exceptions...

…it is not known why but that will come and she suffers as much as the divine Miranda with those who are, it is not known why but one has time in torment in the fires whose fires flames little by little that they last a little longer and who can doubt they will finally set fire to the beams that will bring hell to the clouds so blue at times even today and so calm calm with a calm that is not less welcome because it is intermittent but we do not anticipate and considering on the other hand that as a consequence of the investigations unfinished let us not anticipate the unfinished searches but nevertheless crowned by the Acacacacademy of Anthropopopometry of Bern in Bresse de Testu and Conard has been established without other possibility of error than that referring to the human calculations that as a consequence of the unfinished unfinished investigations of Testu and Conard has been established established established what...

... it follows that follows that follows to know but let's not anticipate it is not known why as a consequence of the works of Poinçon and Wattmann it is so clear so clear that in In view of the works of Fartov and Belcher unfinished unfinished it is not known why of Testu and Conard unfinished unfinished it turns out that man contrary to the contrary opinion that the man in Bresse de Tus and Conard that the man in short in a word that the man in a word in short despite the progress of the food and waste disposal is about to lose weight and at the same time it is not known why despite the impulse of the physical culture of the practice of sports such as tennis, football, running and cycling, swimming, horse riding, aviation, singing, tennis, rowing skating and on…

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