Drama

Drama is the specific mode of fiction represented in performance. The term comes from a Greek word meaning "action" (Classical Greek: δρᾶμα, drama), which is derived from "to do" or "to act" (Classical Greek: δράω, draō). The enactment of drama in theatre, performed by actors on a stage before an audience, presupposes collaborative modes of production and a collective form of reception. The structure of dramatic texts, unlike other forms of literature, is directly influenced by this collaborative production and collective reception.

Drama is also used as synonym of Dramatic (Situations of misfo ...more

New Releases Tagged "Drama"

Just a Little Desire (Sterling Family Crossover #2)

Most Read This Week Tagged "Drama"

The Housemaid's Secret (The Housemaid, #2)

The Last Thing He Told Me (Hannah Hall, #1)

More most read this week tagged "drama"...

Drama Books

More drama books...

Lists

Oh no! Who should I pick!!!

247 books — 297 voters

The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger

Dramatic Love Stories

452 books — 723 voters

Best Covers Ever

794 books — 477 voters

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling

Books Which Will Convert People to Their Genres

224 books — 166 voters

The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson

Anti-Heroines

374 books — 206 voters

November & December 2013 Releases

157 books — 550 voters

Related Genres

Fiction
Ficțion
Fiçtion

Featured News & Interviews

Get Ready! Readers' Most Anticipated Books of 2026

Read »

Quotes Tagged “Drama”

“ Snake Street is an area I should avoid. Yet that night I was drawn there as surely as if I had an appointment. The Snake House is shabby on the outside to hide the wealth within. Everyone knows of the wealth, but facades, like the park’s wall, must be maintained. A lantern hung from the porch eaves. A sign, written in Utte, read ‘Kinship of the Serpent’. I stared at that sign, at that porch, at the door with its twisted handle, and wondered what the people inside would do if I entered. Would t Snake Street is an area I should avoid. Yet that night I was drawn there as surely as if I had an appointment. The Snake House is shabby on the outside to hide the wealth within. Everyone knows of the wealth, but facades, like the park’s wall, must be maintained. A lantern hung from the porch eaves. A sign, written in Utte, read ‘Kinship of the Serpent’. I stared at that sign, at that porch, at the door with its twisted handle, and wondered what the people inside would do if I entered. Would they remember me? Greet me as Kin? Or drive me out and curse me for faking my death? Worse, would they expect me to redon the life I’ve shed? Staring at that sign, I pissed in the street like the Mearan savage I’ve become. As I started to leave, I saw a woman sitting in the gutter. Her lamp attracted me. A memsa’s lamp, three tiny flames to signify the Holy Trinity of Faith, Purity, and Knowledge. The woman wasn’t a memsa. Her young face was bruised and a gash on her throat had bloodied her clothing. Had she not been calmly assessing me, I would have believed the wound to be mortal. I offered her a copper. She refused, “I take naught for naught,” and began to remove trinkets from a cloth bag, displaying them for sale. Her Utte accent had been enough to earn my coin. But to assuage her pride I commented on each of her worthless treasures, fighting the urge to speak Utte. (I spoke Universal with the accent of an upper class Mearan though I wondered if she had seen me wetting the cobblestones like a shameless commoner.) After she had arranged her wares, she looked up at me. “What do you desire, O Noble Born?” I laughed, certain now that she had seen my act in front of the Snake House and, letting my accent match the coarseness of my dress, I again offered the copper. “Nay, Noble One. You must choose.” She lifted a strand of red beads. “These to adorn your lady’s bosom?” I shook my head. I wanted her lamp. But to steal the light from this woman ... I couldn’t ask for it. She reached into her bag once more and withdrew a book, leather-bound, the pages gilded on the edges. “Be this worthy of desire, Noble Born?” I stood stunned a moment, then touched the crescent stamped into the leather and asked if she’d stolen the book. She denied it. I’ve had the Training; she spoke truth. Yet how could she have come by a book bearing the Royal Seal of the Haesyl Line? I opened it. The pages were blank. “Take it,” she urged. “Record your deeds for study. Lo, the steps of your life mark the journey of your soul.” I told her I couldn’t afford the book, but she smiled as if poverty were a blessing and said, “The price be one copper. Tis a wee price for salvation, Noble One.” So I bought this journal. I hide it under my mattress. When I lie awake at night, I feel the journal beneath my back and think of the woman who sold it to me. Damn her. She plagues my soul. I promised to return the next night, but I didn’t. I promised to record my deeds. But I can’t. The price is too high. ...more ”
― K. Ritz, Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master

834 likes

“ I just wanted to tell you that I understand if you go. It’s okay if you have to leave us. It’s okay if you want to stop fighting. ”
― Gayle Forman, If I Stay

1049 likes

More quotes...