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Eugene O'Neill quotes
Obsessed by a fairy tale, we spend our lives searching for a magic door and a lost kingdom of peace.
Eugene O'Neill
Man's loneliness is but his fear of life.
Eugene O'Neill
Life is for each man a solitary cell whose walls are mirrors.
Eugene O'Neill
I hate doctors! They'll do anything - anything to keep you coming to them. They'll sell their souls! What's worse, they'll sell yours, and you never know it till one day you find yourself in hell!
Eugene O'Neill
There is no present or future-only the past, happening over and over again-now.
Eugene O'Neill
Curiosity killed the cat, and satisfaction brought it back.
Eugene O'Neill
How thick the fog is. I can't see the road. All the people in the world could pass by and I would never know. I wish it was always that way. It's getting dark already. It will soon be night, thank goodness.
Eugene O'Neill
Suppose I was to tell you that it's just beauty that's calling me, the beauty of the far off and unknown, the mystery and spell which lures me, the need of freedom of great wide spaces, the joy of wandering on and on----in quest of the secret which is hidden over there----beyond the horizon?
Eugene O'Neill
Irish as a Paddy's pig.
Eugene O'Neill
It's a great game - the pursuit of happiness.
Eugene O'Neill
We'd be making sail in the dawn, with a fair breeze, singing a chanty song wid no care to it. And astern the land would be sinking low and dying out, but we'd give it no heed but a laugh, and never look behind. For the day that was, was enough, for we was free men - and I'm thinking 'tis only slaves do be giving heed to the day that's gone or the day to come - until they're old like me.
Eugene O'Neill
We are such things as rubbish is made of, so let's drink up and forget it.
Eugene O'Neill
One should be either sad or joyful. Contentment is a warm sty for eaters and sleepers.
Eugene O'Neill
One may not give one's soul to a devil of hate - and remain forever scatheless.
Eugene O'Neill
If a person is to get the meaning of life he must learn to like the facts about himself - ugly as they may seem to his sentimental vanity - before he can learn the truth behind the facts. And the truth is never ugly.
Eugene O'Neill
You seem to be going in for sincerity today. It isn't becoming to you, really - except as an obvious pose. Be as artificial as you are, I advise. There's a sort of sincerity in that, you know. And, after all, you must confess you like that better.
Eugene O'Neill
I am so far from being a pessimist... on the contrary, in spite of my scars, I am tickled to death at life.
Eugene O'Neill
Why am I afraid to dance, I who love music and rhythm and grace and song and laughter? Why am I afraid to live, I who love life and the beauty of flesh and the living colors of the earth and sky and sea? Why am I afraid to love, I who love love?
Eugene O'Neill
When you're 50 you start thinking about things you haven't thought about before. I used to think getting old was about vanity - but actually it's about losing people you love. Getting wrinkles is trivial.
Eugene O'Neill
I love every bone in their heads.
Eugene O'Neill
I haven't touched a piano in so many years. I couldn't play with such crippled fingers, even if I wanted to. For a time after my marriage I tried to keep up my music. But it was hopeless. One-night stands, cheap hotels, dirty trains, leaving children, never having a home - [She stares at her hands with fascinated disgust. ] See, Cathleen, how ugly they are! So maimed and crippled! You would think they'd been through some horrible accident! [She gives a strange little laugh. ] So they have, come to think of it. [She suddenly thrusts her hands behind her back. ] I won't look at them. They're worse than the foghorn for reminding me - [Then with defiant self-assurance. ] But even they can't touch me now. [She brings her hands from behind her back and deliberately stares at them - calmly. ] They're far away. I see them, but the pain has gone.
Eugene O'Neill
You mustn't feel sorry for me. Don't you see I'm happy at last - free - free! - freed from the farm - free to wander on and on - eternally! Look! Isn't it beautiful beyond the hills? I can hear the old voices calling me to come - And this time I'm going! It isn't the end. It's a free beginning - the start of my voyage! I've won to my trip - the right of release - beyond the horizon! Oh, you ought to be glad - glad - for my sake!
Eugene O'Neill
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