Rot dead marigolds- an acre at a time! Gold are you?

The past above$$$ the future below and the present pouring down: the roar$$$the roar of the present$$$ a speech--is$$$ of necessity$$$ my sole concern.

She lives in a world of her own: a world of little glass ornaments.

Go$$$ then! Go to the moon-you selfish dreamer!

For nowadays the world is lit by lightning! Blow out your candles$$$ Laura -- and so goodbye. . . .

You're simple$$$ straightforward and honest$$$ a little bit on the primitive side$$$ I should think. To interest you a woman would have to... To lay her cards out on the table.

It's interesting$$$ isn't it? . . . the chandelier . . . it reminds me of mushroom soup.

Stanley: Delicate piece she is. Stella: She is. She was. You didn't know Blanche as a girl. Nobody$$$ nobody$$$ was tender and trusting as she was. But people like you abused her$$$ and forced her to change.

Stella: And when he comes back I cry on his lap like a baby..[she smiles to herself] Blanche: I guess that is what is meant by being in love..

Attempting to find in motion what was lost in space.