Willy, a tired, deluded salesman in his early sixties, has always pinned the highest hopes on his sons, especially Biff, his eldest. But lately Willy has been showing suicidal tendencies, having lost his job and seeing that his sons have not ‘made it big’ afterall. In this speech, Biff finally unbottles all the resentment he holds for his Dad for pressuring him to chase a dream which, in his heart of hearts, means nothing to him, and reveals the true extent of his ‘failure’ over the last few years…

Now hear this, Willy, this is me. […] You know why I had no address for three months? I stole a suit in Kansas City and I was in jail. […] I stole myself out of every good job since high school! […]
And I never got anywhere because you blew me so full of hot air I could never stand taking orders from anybody! That’s whose fault it is! […] It’s goddam time you heard that! I had to be boss big shot in two weeks, and I’m through with it! […] Willy! I ran down eleven flights with a pen in
my hand today. And suddenly I stopped, you hear me? And in the middle of that office building, do you hear this? I stopped in the middle of that building and I saw—the sky. I saw the things that I love in this world. The work and the food and time to sit and smoke. And I looked at the pen and said to myself, what the hell am I grabbing this for? Why am I trying to become what I
don’t want to be? What am I doing in an office, making a contemptuous, begging fool of myself, when all I want is out there, waiting for me the minute I say I know who I am! Why can’t I say that, Willy? […]
Pop! I’m a dime a dozen, and so are you! […] I am not a leader of men, Willy, and neither are you. You were never anything but a hard-working drummer who landed in the ash-can like all the rest of them! I’m one dollar an hour, Willy! I tried seven states and couldn’t raise it. A buck an hour! Do you gather my meaning? I’m not bringing home any prizes any more, and you’re going to stop waiting for me to bring them home!
Pop, I’m nothing! I’m nothing, Pop. Can’t you understand that? There’s no spite in it any more. I’m just what I am, that’s all. […]
Will you let me go, for Christ’s sake? Will yo take that phony dream and burn it before something happens?