The Crucible

Proctor: (grasping her by the throat as though he would strangle her). Make your peace with it! Now Hell and Heaven grapple on our backs, and all our old pretense is ripped away- make your peace! (He throws her to the floor, where she sobs, "I cannot, I cannot..." And now, half to himself, staring, and turning to the open door) Peace. It is a providence, and no great change; we are only what we always were, but naked now. (He walks as though toward a great horror, facing the open sky.) Aye, naked! And the wind, God's icy wind, will blow!

(And she is over and over again sobbing, "I cannot, I cannot, I cannot," as)

The curtain falls

~Arthur Miller

Indian Education

Believe me, everything looks like a noose if you stare at it long enough. 

~Sherman Alexie