"I would not classify William as a great linguistic mastermind. I was actually asserting quite the opposite, that he was not a master of his language and in fact did not let that stop his writing from going being wonderful. He invented words because there were no words for what it was that he could express. Have you ever had the courage to do something like that in your writing? I think even I would have trouble to take that great of a leap and yet William was able to do it at the drop of a hat if it meant giving the play the right feeling. Now it seems something that is frowned upon in from what I have seen, things are locked about in rules of grammar instead of allowing one to express themselves fully. I would say that is the defining characteristic of what makes a play great, the ability for one to evoke emotion with the words, regardless of how complex or simple they may be..." Desmond said seriously, having actually reflected on such things quite a bit.
"I think in some aspect we all are lonely souls," Desmond replied softly. "Devices that allow us to talk anywhere, to connect to a web of information provided by others anywhere, I would argue that humanity itself is striving to find some way to connect to someone, anyone out there more and more than ever before. Why is it then that they would undergo a struggle as such if, in some respect, we were not all lonely, seeking to connect with someone on some level, as often as we can? Do you really not long for someone to see who you truly are, outside of the mask of sociability that everyone wears, to know you so deeply that they might be able to see such things to the heart of your being?" Desmond asked raising an eyebrow quietly.
"I could have quoted Byron instead, perhaps being a bit more related to my current circumstances...." Desmond said with a smile as he reached to touch her face and caress it, brushing back a few strands of her hair as he spoke:
"One shade the more, one ray the less Had half impared the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress Or softly lightens o'er her face..."
"The history books always tend to leave out the wonderful parts, in my opinion." Desmond replied with a fanged grin. "Historians are, for the most part, a rather stuffy lot, and I think would like to portray everyone who has ever been alive as just as stuffy as they, when such things are not the case at all. You can't really believe that someone who wrote so deeply about love and desire would not have been touched by it himself." Desmond kept mum about the bisexuality claim that Maya made about Shakespeare. It was certainly not his place to speak of Williams affairs, regardless of the audience. "I studied him in London, of course." Desmond said, smiling a little at his own private joke at that.
"One can only be in the present in the heat of battle and in meditation. The present is an ever fleeting thing. In the future I will tap your nose..." he said, and then tapped her lightly upon the nose. "And now it has come to pass. I would say that if anything, an audience comes to a play simply to forget the present that they are in. You are right that a playright needs to capture the zeitgeist, but I would argue that is not the present but something different entirely." Desmond said.
"You should be careful that the monsters do not overhear you saying that. I doubt I would be adequate protection from some of the more deadly ones that called this place their home." Desmond lied softly with the hint of a smile. "But it is nice that you have the courage to live on the edge, I think William would approve of that as well." he said with a quiet nod.