I really like this one.

It has a certain charm that attracts me. Maybe it's the unique design, or the way it functions.

Every time I look at it or use it, I feel a sense of satisfaction.

It makes me happy and brings a smile to my face.

I often find myself thinking about it when I'm not around it.

It has become an important part of my life.

I can't imagine not having it.

I will cherish it and take good care of it for a long time.

It's like a precious treasure to me.

I'm so glad I discovered it.

After seeing Mamet lauded time and time again in the pages of Esquire and GQ (although upon reflection, perhaps it was just mentioned rather than praised), this one has been on my list for quite some time. Moreover, Alec Baldwin was in the movie - how could this not be excellent?

As my star rating indicates, I was extremely disappointed. While I do concur that Mamet has a talent for seizing the dialogue of desperate businessmen, the absence of a plot and real substance here truly got to me. Honestly, it didn't even live up to the reputation of Mamet as being completely cruel and misogynistic that I had been constructing. This seemed like sixty pages of men worrying about money and business to very little avail, and the dialogue was certainly not clever and witty enough to conceal or compensate for that fact.

Perhaps reading more of Mamet's works would alter my opinion of the man, but if the seminal work, the Alec Baldwin work, fails to do it for me, then I don't know what would.

The play that I have enjoyed the least from my American Theater course is [play name].

Perhaps it is because I know almost nothing about the state-business subject. The leads, sits, contracts, and boards made me feel a bit lost.

Moreover, the characters seemed inadequately developed to me. They were like robots with the additional facet of being salesmen.

I guess I have a greater preference for family plays. For example, "Death of a Salesman" combines the two aspects of public and private life extremely well. "Buried Child" and "Long Day's Journey Into Night" are also among my favorites.

The ending of this play also seemed a little too hasty to me. However, I would like to watch the movie version to gain a clearer understanding of the story.

Maybe the movie will present the details and nuances that I missed while watching the play on stage. It could provide a different perspective and help me appreciate the play more.

Overall, while this particular play did not resonate with me as much as others, I am still open to exploring different types of theater and expanding my understanding and enjoyment of this art form.

One. Always complete the transaction.

Two. What I mean is, what is our life? [Pause] Either we look back at the past or we are worried about the future. Our life has been summed up like this. That's it. So what is the present time? [Pause] What are we really afraid of? We are afraid of non-existence. What else? [Pause] That the bank will go bankrupt. I will get sick, my wife will die in a plane crash, the stock market will crash... Our house will burn down. Which one of these events will happen? None. But we are still worried. What does it mean? It means I don't feel safe.

Three. I heard a very large number that if you double it, there is no difference.

Four. "Glengarry Glen Ross" is a completely American play with a shine of anti-capitalism. The people, the environment, the dialogues all take place in an American space. The actions of the middle-class Americans in the 1980s who participated in a sales competition. Sales, because they are usually just sitting there. The younger generation that is more focused on money and income and the older generation that still wants to prove that it can compete. Compete for what? Writing a name on a blackboard as the top seller and the possible winner of a Cadillac. And this is while all these people know that the big and main money goes into the pockets of the employers that we neither see them in the whole play nor really understand what their work is. Management?

The Hollywood version of this play has long held a special place in my heart. However, I had never delved into the original text before. To my surprise, it is much tighter and simpler. It's a relatively short read for a play, easily completed in one sitting.

Obviously, the screenplay takes certain liberties with the supporting scenes. For instance, the famous monologue from Alec Baldwin is completely absent from the play. Nevertheless, some of the key scenes follow the original script word for word.

I have a deep appreciation for the realism of the writing. Anyone who has spent time in a sales environment can easily relate to the frustrations, angst, thrill of closing, and the danger of buyer's remorse experienced by the characters. It's an exclusively male cast, and those who have worked in an office, especially in the 80s like I was familiar with, know that the curse words used here are as common as in any office. Complaining about such language seems prudish to me. I find that it adds to the realism of the dialogue, as does the frequently broken-up nature of the conversations, which I also find to be very typical in general speech.

Of course, the plot line is rather simple, yet it remains compelling. The genius lies in the fact that we are not shown all the parts until the denouement, as Williamson figures it out. However, for me, the complexity of the plot is not what makes this a great play. Its importance and enjoyment stem from the relationships between the salesmen and with their manager. It beautifully illustrates Thoreau's poignant and depressing comment that "most men live lives of quiet desperation," and we can probably all recognize that desperation within ourselves or in those we know. I thoroughly enjoyed reading the original upon which the movie is based.

In the land trading office, there is fierce competition. The employee who closes the largest number of deals in a month will receive a Cadillac as a gift. The prize for the second place is a set of kitchen knives, and the two last on the list will be fired. In general, it's an ideal starting situation to generate hatred. Of course, there won't be a single positive character here, only slippery and unpleasant traits. But the text is written so vividly and dynamically that you watch these spiders in the bank with bated breath. Both acts are a wonderful exchange of dialogues, the echoes of which you have heard many times in your favorite movies, from Tarantino to Sorkin. Damn exciting content.

It's a story that immediately grabs your attention and keeps you engaged throughout. The description of the competition creates a tense atmosphere, making you wonder who will come out on top and who will face the consequences. The use of vivid language and references to well-known filmmakers adds an extra layer of interest. You can almost picture the characters and their actions as you read, making it a truly immersive experience.

Whether you're a fan of thrillers, dramas, or just good storytelling, this text has something to offer. It's a prime example of how a simple premise can be turned into a captivating and engaging piece of writing. So, if you're looking for a quick read that will leave you on the edge of your seat, give this one a try.

Power-hungry; a few people who have been gesticulating inside the chaos since the beginning of the show. Everyone is fighting for survival in their work. The senseless pressure of the system, the stupid competition, and the bosses who seem inhuman. This is exactly what happens to people in a strange way to win.

In the show, although we hear the names of the bosses thousands of times, we can never get much information about them. They seem like the evil and merciless forces that control us, lead us to misfortune, and make us thirsty for blood even when they don't say a word or, better yet, do they even have a physical existence?

We are constantly at the mercy of these unknown and seemingly omnipotent figures. They pull the strings behind the scenes, determining our fates and fortunes. We strive and struggle, but often feel powerless in the face of their might. The question remains: who are these bosses, and what drives them? Are they truly as heartless and cruel as they seem, or is there more to their story? Only time will tell.

What I'm saying is, what is your life?

It's either looking forward or looking back. And that's our life. That's it. Where is the moment?

And what is it that we're afraid of? Loss. What else?

The bank closes. We get sick, my wife died on a plane, the stock market collapsed, the house burnt down. What if these things happen? None of them have happened. But we worry anyway. What does this mean? I'm not secure. How can I be secure?

Is it through amassing wealth beyond measure? No. And what's beyond all measure? That's a sickness. That's a trap. There is no measure. Only greed. So, how can we act?

We need to stop constantly looking forward or backward and focus on the present moment. We should not let our fears of loss paralyze us. Instead of obsessing over amassing wealth, we should find other ways to feel secure. Maybe it's through building strong relationships, having a sense of purpose, or taking care of our physical and mental health. We need to break free from the trap of greed and learn to be content with what we have. Only then can we truly live a fulfilling life.

Aburrio is a word that might not be familiar to everyone. It could potentially refer to a person, a place, or something else entirely. Without further context, it's difficult to determine its exact meaning.

However, we can imagine different scenarios in which the word "aburrio" could be used. Maybe it's the name of a small town tucked away in a remote corner of the world. Or perhaps it's the nickname of a unique and interesting individual with a story to tell.

It could also be the title of a book, a song, or a work of art. In this case, the word "aburrio" might carry a deeper significance, evoking emotions or ideas that are specific to the creator's vision.

Whatever the case may be, the word "aburrio" has the potential to spark our curiosity and imagination. It invites us to explore new possibilities and to consider different interpretations. So, the next time you come across the word "aburrio," take a moment to think about what it could mean to you.

Not my cup of tea.

This book earns two stars simply because it is well-written. However, the plot and characters are not easily comprehensible, which makes the reading experience quite annoying.

It seems that the author has tried to create a complex and unique world, but perhaps the execution was not as smooth as expected.

The story jumps around in a rather disjointed way, making it difficult for the reader to follow.

Additionally, the characters lack depth and development, leaving the reader with little emotional connection to them.

On the other hand, I can't help but think that seeing this as a play might make a huge difference.

The visual and auditory elements of a stage production could potentially bring the story and characters to life in a way that the written word cannot.

Maybe the director could find a way to clarify the plot and make the characters more relatable.

Overall, while the writing itself is good, this book fails to engage me on a deeper level.

Sheesh! The rhythm of Mamet's dialogue here is truly badass.

It's like a powerful force that grabs your attention and doesn't let go. Although he seems to have abandoned this style in later years, you can really feel the lack in his newer work.

For my money, this one and 'Homicide' contain his best dialogue. Then perhaps 'House of Games' and 'Olleana' (sp?).

I legitimately miss Mamet's older way of writing speech patterns. It's like a punk rock brick through the window, but in a great way.

It's edgy, raw, and full of energy. It makes you sit up and take notice. His earlier works had a unique charm and authenticity that is hard to replicate.

Maybe he felt the need to evolve and try different things, but there's something special about those older pieces that will always be remembered.

I hope he might revisit this style again someday, just to give us a taste of that old magic.

Few things terrify me more than the prospect of having to sell something to make a living.

Finding good prospects, making cold calls, converting them to buyers, and all of that determining my livelihood at the end of each month? It’s truly the stuff of nightmares.

So I really appreciate “Glengarry Glen Ross” for offering such an honest peek into the lives and careers of men who struggle and fight to sell oceanfront property in Arizona.

It doesn’t beautify the lifestyle, nor does it condemn it. Instead, it exposes the truth about who these people are: lying, greedy, and abrasive men who will do whatever it takes to close a deal.

Mamet’s dialogue is, of course, intense and driving, resulting in a fast-paced read that flew by in about 50 minutes.

He crafts some unforgettable characters who distinguish themselves from one another in interesting ways, but ultimately, it remains inconclusive. This is really great stuff.