Eugene O'Neill Quotes
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Why can’t you remember your Shakespeare and forget the third-raters. You’ll find what you’re trying to say in him- as you’ll find everything else worth saying. 'We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with sleep.'' - 'Fine! That’s beautiful. But I wasn’t trying to say that. We are such stuff as manure is made on, so let’s drink up and forget it. That’s more my idea.
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To hell with the truth! As the history of the world proves, the truth has no bearing on anything. It's irrelevant and immaterial, as the lawyers say. The lie of a pipe dream is what gives life to the whole misbegotten mad lot of us, drunk or sober.
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We are where centuries only count as seconds, and after a thousand lives, our eyes begin to open.
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Life is for each man a solitary cell whose walls are mirrors.
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It's a great game - the pursuit of happiness.
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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.
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When men make gods, there is no God!
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The only living life is in the past and future - the present is an interlude - strange interlude in which we call on past and future to bear witness that we are living.
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Life is a long drawn out lie, with a sniffling sigh at the end of it.
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It was a great mistake, my being born a man, I would have been much more successful as a seagull or a fish. As it is, I will always be a stranger who never feels at home, who does not really want and is not really wanted, who can never belong, who must be a little in love with death!
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While you are still beautiful and life still woos, it is such a fine gesture of disdainful pride to jilt it.
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The past is the present, isn’t it? It’s the future too.
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There is no present or future-only the past, happening over and over again-now.
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What's the use coming home to get the blues over what can't be helped.
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I hate doctors! They'll do 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.
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Writing is my vacation from living.
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The lie of a pipe dream is what gives life to the whole misbegotten mad lot of us, drunk or sober.
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Curiosity killed the cat.
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God gave us mouths that close and ears that don't... that should tell us something.
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Critics? I love every bone in their heads.
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We talk about the American Dream, and want to tell the world about the American Dream, but what is that Dream, in most cases, but the dream of material things? I sometimes think that the United States for this reason is the greatest failure the world has ever seen.
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A man's work is in danger of deteriorating when he thinks he has found the one best formula for doing it. If he thinks that, he is likely to feel that all he needs is merely to go on repeating himself . . . so long as a person is searching for better ways of doing his work, he is fairly safe.
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I will be an artist or nothing!
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We are such things as rubbish is made of, so let's drink up and forget it.