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“But as she tried to unravel him, he grew increasingly tragic and terrifyingly human”
― SenLinYu, Manacled

“JESUS: Judas! â€� Judas, don’t you know what would happen the very instant you got down on your knees?
JUDAS: Why on my knees? They shoulda buried me standing up—’cuz I been on my knees my whole life! You left me.

JUDAS is slowly reverting to his frozen catatonic state.

JESUS: I’m right here.
JUDAS: I would have never believed that you could have left me.
JESUS: I never left you.
JUDAS: That you didn’t love me.
JESUS: I do love you.
JUDAS: Why � didn’t you make me good enough � so that you could’ve loved me?
JESUS: � Please take my hands, Judas. Please.
JUDAS: Where are they?
JESUS: Right here.
JUDAS: I can’t see them.
JESUS: They’re right here.
JUDAS: Where are you going?!
JESUS: I’m right here.
JUDAS: Don’t leave me!
JESUS: I’m here.
JUDAS: I can’t hurt �
JESUS: I love you, Judas.
JUDAS: I can’t �
JESUS: Please stay.
JUDAS: I can’t hurt �
JESUS: Please love me, Judas.
JUDAS: I can’t.

JUDAS is frozen again.”
― Stephen Adly Guirgis, The Last Days of Judas Iscariot

“For no Reason?"
"For every reason". Rie emptied her sake cup. "Let's start with how she viewed my dad. He was your typical king of the hill. We couldn't say anything growing up. I was a kid, and a girl on top of that, so he never saw me as a real person. I never even heard the guy call my mother by name. It was always Hey you. We were constantly on red alert because my dad would beat the shit out of us or break things for no reason. Of course, outside the home, he was a pillar of the community. He ran the neighborhood council, and all that. My mom was my mom, always laughing it off, running the bath for him, cleaning up after him, feeding him. She looked after both of his parents all the way to the end, too. There was no inheritance, either. Yeah, my mom was free labor - free labor with a pussy.”
― Mieko Kawakami, Breasts and Eggs

“No parent should have to bury a child ... No mother should have to bury a son. Mothers are not meant to bury sons. It is not in the natural order of things.
I buried my son. In a potter's field. In a field of Blood. In empty, acrid silence. There was no funeral. There were no mourners. His friends all absent. His father dead. His sisters refusing to attend. I discovered his body alone, I dug his grave alone, I placed him in a hole, and covered him with dirt and rock alone. I was not able to finish burying him before sundown, and I'm not sure if that affected his fate ...
I begrudge God none of this. I do not curse him or bemoan my lot. And though my heart keeps beating only to keep breaking--I do not question why.
I remember the morning my son was born as if it was yesterday. The moment the midwife placed him in my arms, I was infused with a love beyond all measure and understanding. I remember holding my son, and looking over at my own mother and saying, "Now I understand why the sun comes up at day and the stars come out at night. I understand why rain falls gently. Now I understand you, Mother" ...
I loved my son every day of his life, and I will love him ferociously long after I've stopped breathing. I am a simple woman. I am not bright or learn-ed. I do not read. I do not write. My opinions are not solicited. My voice is not important ... On the day of my son's birth I was infused with a love beyond all measure and understanding ... The world tells me that God is in Heaven and that my son is in Hell. I tell the world the one true thing I know: If my son is in Hell, then there is no Heaven--because if my son sits in Hell, there is no God.”
― Stephen Adly Guirgis, The Last Days of Judas Iscariot