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Lady is in her mid-thirties and is trapped in a deeply unhappy
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When a woman’s been childless as long as I’ve been childless, it’s hard to believe that you’re still able to bear! --We used to have a little fig tree between the house and the orchard. It never bore any fruit, they said it was barren.
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Unpack the box with the Christmas ornaments in it, put them on me, glass bells and glass birds and stars and tinsel and snow! (In a sort of delirium, she runs upstairs to the landing, crying out.) Because I’ve won, I’ve won, Mr. Death, I’m going to bear!
Tennessee Williams. Orpheus Descending. Dramatists Play Service, 1989. p.76
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