10 Examples of Monologue about love

A monologue about him love It is a speech in which a single participant talks with himself to reflect on this feeling of affection of the human being that needs to be projected towards another person or thing.

The monologue It is usually an introspection tool that allows you to connect with the interiority and psychology of the character that represents it. It is directed towards itself, but it is also addressed to the readers or the audience. It differs from dialogue, in that there is only one character who affirms, doubts, questions and answers in order to reflect with authenticity and disinhibition.

Monologues can be found in many literary genres, such as poetry,​ tale, essays, theater plays,​ novels.

There are three types of monologues:

Examples of monologue about love

1. Extract from Hopscotch, by Julio Cortazar (1963). In this novel, the protagonist reflects on love as a feeling that runs through the human being and that is not chosen with reason.

For fear of starting fabrications, they are so easy. You get an idea from there, a feeling from the other shelf, you tie them together with the help of words, black bitches, and it turns out that I love you. Subtotal: I love you. Grand total: I love you. This is how many of my friends live, not to mention an uncle and two cousins, convinced of the love-they-have-for-their-wives. From the word to the acts, che; in general without verba there is no res. What many people call love consists in choosing a woman and marrying her. They choose her, I swear, I've seen them. As if you could choose in love, as if it weren't lightning that breaks your bones and leaves you staked in the middle of the patio. You will say that they choose her because-they-love her, I think it is when they see each other. Beatriz is not chosen, Juliet is not chosen. You don't choose the rain that will soak you to the bone when you leave a concert. But I'm alone in my room, I fall into scribe's gadgets, the black bitches take revenge as best they can, they nibble at me from under the table.

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1. Extract from Othello, by William Shakespeare (1604). In this play, Desdemona reflects on the duality of love.

I see my father disdaining and cursing my departure, I see the mother I had and who now seems to me to be my only confidant, singing me a song for difficult days; I see and feel my short life, all the things I said and did in this instant lose their eternity, they become pages of a silent diary, they become an ocean where will I end up and no one can save me, you will not save me, my love, not this time, you will not save me despite the fact that I surrendered my life at your feet and made you a knight of my virginity. What was really my fault?! I loved you, Mine and I was not disloyal at any time, it is that love is a dagger of fire that, by day can protect us against the tyranny of evil and, at night, mortally wound us with his sword of iron.

1. Extract from Romeo and Juliet, by William Shakespeare (1597). In this play, the protagonist reflects on love as a nocturnal feeling while Romeo visits her when the sun (Phebo) hides.

JULIET Run, run to the house of Phoebus, you winged steeds of the sun. Phaethon's whip cast you into the sunset. Come the sweet night to lay down its thick curtains. Close oh sun! your penetrating eyes, and he lets my Romeo come to me in silence, and invisibly throw himself into my arms. Love is blind and loves the night, and in its mysterious light lovers keep their dates. Come, majestic night, matron of humble and black tunic, and teach me to lose in the soft game, where virgins pawn their chastity. Cover with your mantle the pure blood that burns in my cheeks. Come, night; come, Romeo, you who are my day in the middle of this night, you who before its darkness seem like a snowflake on the black wings of the raven. Come, dark night, friend of lovers, and return me to my Romeo. And when he dies, you turn each piece of his body into a shining star, to serve as an adornment to your mantle, so that everyone falls in love with the night, falling out of love with the sun. I have already acquired the castle of my love, but I do not yet possess it. I am already sold, but not given to my lord. What a long day! as long as Sunday eve for the child who has to wear a new suit on him. But here comes my mistress, and she will bring me news of him.

1. Extract from The banquet, of Plato (385–370 a. C.). In this book, Aristophanes takes the floor and reflects on his own conception of love.

—Imagine, that until now men have entirely ignored the power of Love; because if they knew him, they would build magnificent temples and altars for him, and offer him sumptuous sacrifices, and none of this is done, although it would be very convenient; because among all the gods he is the one who showers the most benefits on men, as he is his protector and doctor of him, and cures them of the evils that prevent the human race from reaching the summit of the happiness from him. I am going to try to make you know the power of Love, and it is up to you to teach others what you learn from me.
(...) Of course, and this is essential, Amor does not commit injustices or tolerate them; be with the gods or with men, pray of the gods or of men. Neither he nor he suffers violence, because even what he bears he does not bear by force, since violence never attacks Love, and when he does something, without being forced into it, it is always, since everything enters everywhere voluntarily in the service of Eros. And when both on one side and on the other there is a voluntary agreement, "the reigning laws of the city" declare that they act with justice.
In addition to justice, he has Love temperance to the highest degree. Temperance consists, in effect, in the opinion of all, in dominating pleasures and passions. And there being no pleasures superior to those of love, all being inferior to it, they are defeated by it; and he, therefore, victorious. Then being the winner of voluptuousness and passions, how could his temperance not be superior to any other?

1. Poem "The Threatened", by Jorge Luis Borges (1972). In this poetry, the poetic subject presents the anguish of someone who is "threatened" by the force of love.

It is love. I'll have to hide or run away.
The walls of his prison grow, as in an atrocious dream.
The beautiful mask has changed, but as always it is the only one.
Of what use will my talismans be to me: the exercise of letters,
The vague lore, learning the words the harsh North used to sing his seas and his swords,
the serene friendship, the galleries of the library, the common things,
the habits, the young love of my mother, the military shadow of my dead, the timeless night, the taste of sleep?
Being with you or not being with you is the measure of my time.
Now the pitcher breaks over the fountain, now the man
Get up at the voice of the bird, those who look through the windows have already darkened, but the shadow has not brought peace.
It is, I know, love: the anxiety and the relief of hearing your voice, the waiting and the memory, the horror of living in the future.
It is love with its mythologies, with its little useless magic.
There is a corner that I dare not pass.
Now the armies are getting closer, the hordes.
(This room is unreal; she hasn't seen it.)
The name of a woman betrays me.
A woman hurts all over my body.

1. Extract from Fragments of a love speechby Roland Barthes (1977). In this essay, love is reflected and reaffirmed as a value and never as something negative.

Affirmation: Against all odds, the subject affirms love as a value.
1. Despite the difficulties of my history, despite the discomforts, the doubts, the desperation, despite the desire to get out of it, I do not stop affirming love in myself as a value. All the arguments that the most diverse systems use to demystify, limit, blur, in despise love, I listen to them, but I am obstinate: "I know perfectly well, but despite everything…". I refer the devaluations of love to a kind of obscurantist morality, to a realism-farce, against the which I raise the real from value: I oppose to everything "what is wrong" in love, the affirmation of what in it okay. This stubbornness is the protest of love: under the chorus of "good reasons" to love differently, to love better, to love without being in love, etc., a stubborn voice makes itself heard that lasts a little longer: the voice of the intractable loving.
The world submits every company to an alternative: that of success or failure, that of victory or defeat. I protest from another logic: I am at the same time and contradictorily happy and unhappy: "succeeding" or "failing" does not they have for me more than contingent, passing meanings (which does not prevent my sorrows and my desires from being violent); what encourages me, deaf and obstinately, is not tactical: I accept and affirm, from outside what is true and what is false, from outside what is successful and what is unsuccessful; I am exempt from all purpose, I live according to chance (it is proven by the figures of my speech that come to me like hits of the dice). Confronted with the adventure (what happens to me), I do not come out of it neither victorious nor hesitate: I am tragic. (I am told: that kind of love is not viable. But how to assess viability? Why what is viable is a Good? Why lasting is better than burning?).

1. Extract from werther, by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1774). In this novel, the character reflects on love as something that occupies the whole day.

My friend, let me make a comparison for you. It happens in this what happens in love. A young man falls in love with a woman, spends every hour of the day by her side, lavishes his caresses and her possessions on her, and thus proves to her endlessly that she is everything in the world to him. Then a neighbor arrives, an employee, who tells him: «Little gentleman, love is for men; but it is necessary to love man. Divide your time; dedicate a part of it to work, and do not consecrate to your mistress more than the moments of leisure; he thinks of you, and when you have secured what you need, I will not be the one who forbids you to do with what you have left over some gift to your loved one; but not very often; his saint's day for example, or his birth anniversary… “If our lover listens to him, he will become a useful man, and even I will advise the prince to give him some employment; but bye-bye love!… bye-bye art! If he is an artist. O my friends! Why does the torrent of genius overflow so from time to time? Why so seldom do its waves boil and make your souls quiver with wonder? Dear friends: because some peaceful neighbors populate both shores, who have pretty little pavilions, squares of tulips and flower beds of weeds that would be destroyed, something they know very well, for which they conjure up with dikes and drainage ditches the danger that the threat."

1. poem of One hundred love sonnetsby Pablo Neruda (1959). In this sonnet, the poetic subject reflects on love as an arbitrary entity, which has no logic or reason. The lover feels irritated at being held captive by this love.

I don't love you but because I love you
and from loving you to not loving you I arrive
and to wait for you when I don't wait for you
Pass my heart from the cold to the fire.

I love you only because I love you,
I hate you without end, and hating you I beg you,
and the measure of my traveling love
It is not seeing you and loving you like a blind man.

Perhaps it will consume the light of January,
his cruel ray, my whole heart,
stealing the key to peace

In this story only I die
and I will die of love because I love you,
because I love you, love, with blood and fire.

1. Extract from when we fell in loveby Diego Gabino. In this stand up show from El Club de la Comedia, we reflect on how tastes and habits change when you feel love for another person.

Good evening. I want to talk to you about love (…). Everything changes when you are in love. Your scale of values ​​varies radically. For example, before, Sunday was dedicated to football. Now you're going to eat with her and the after-meal conversation is prolonged. You look at her, she looks at you, you hold her hand, six in the evening. But as much as you love her, you're a man. And there is a moment when you can't take it anymore and you get up: 'I'm going to the bathroom. Don't go, huh?'.
And as soon as he doesn't see you, you grab the waiter and say "Hey, how's Madrid going, man?" And with that you stay, because when you get to the car you can't put on Carousel Deportivo. No sir, you're in love. You have to play romantic music. A tape that you have recorded especially for that night and that in a show of originality you have given it the title of 'Lentas'.
By the way, the car is one of the places where you can see how stupid you've become with this love thing, because For the first time, instead of wanting it to turn green, you want it to turn red so you can kiss him: 'Oops red, moo'.

1. Extract from The new life, by Dante Alighieri (1292 and 1293). In this work, lyrical poems alternate with prose chapters that explain them. In this sonnet, the ethical subject speaks of platonic love.

Once this song was spread, in a certain way, as a certain friend of mine heard it, he was inclined to beg me to tell him what it is. Love, because perhaps, from the words heard, he expected more from me than I deserved. And thinking that after what was discussed it was timely
say something about Love, as well as the convenience of attending to my friend, I decided to write a few words about Love. So I composed this sonnet, which begins: "The wise man wrote: they are the same thing."

The wise man wrote: they are the same thing
pure love and noble understanding.
As a rational and understanding soul,
without one never the other live dare.
Makes Nature, if loving,
of love, sir, who has his room
in the noble feeling, where happy
for a short or long term it rests.
As a discreet lady, Beauty
It shows itself, and it pleases the eye so much,
that the noble sentiments are desire:
By his virtue, if he lasts hard,
the force of love is unveiled.
The same proceeds in courtship ladies.

This sonnet is divided into two parts. In the first I speak of Love as it is in power; in the second I speak of it insofar as power is reduced in act. This second part begins in "As a discreet lady." The first part is divided into two: in the first I show in which subject this power is found; in the second I explain how this subject and this power were born and how one is in relation to another just as matter is to form. The second begins in "Makes nature." Then, by saying: "As a discreet lady," I explain how this power is reduced to an act; first how it is reduced in
the man, and then -by saying; "It's the same" - how it is reduced in women.

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