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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.
Eugene O'Neill -
You said they had found the secret of happiness because they had never heard that love can be a sin.
Eugene O'Neill
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There is no present or future-only the past, happening over and over again-now.
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 -
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!
Eugene O'Neill -
Writing is my vacation from living.
Eugene O'Neill -
We are such things as rubbish is made of, so let's drink up and forget it.
Eugene O'Neill -
Life is a long drawn out lie, with a sniffling sigh at the end of it.
Eugene O'Neill
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The past is the present, isn’t it? It’s the future too.
Eugene O'Neill -
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.
Eugene O'Neill -
Our lives are merely strange dark interludes in the electric display of God the Father.
Eugene O'Neill -
God gave us mouths that close and ears that don't... that should tell us something.
Eugene O'Neill -
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.
Eugene O'Neill -
A game of secret, cunning stratagems, in which only the fools who are fated to lose reveal their true aims or motives - even to themselves.
Eugene O'Neill
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Happiness hates the timid. So does science.
Eugene O'Neill -
We are where centuries only count as seconds, and after a thousand lives, our eyes begin to open.
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 will be an artist or nothing!
Eugene O'Neill -
Man is born broken. He lives by mending. The Grace of God is glue.
Eugene O'Neill -
What's the use coming home to get the blues over what can't be helped.
Eugene O'Neill
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Two days ago we waded through the mud out to this grave beneath the pines at the foot of the hill to place a Christmas wreath on it, hoping he would look down from the Paradise of Ten Billion Trees and Unrationable Dog Biscuits and pity us.
Eugene O'Neill -
Age's terms of peace, after the long interlude of war with life, have still to be concluded-Youth must keep decently away-so many old wounds may have to be unbound, and old scars pointed to with pride, to prove to ourselves we have been brave and noble.
Eugene O'Neill -
No dog is as well bred or as well mannered or as distinguished and handsome.
Eugene O'Neill -
Drunken with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you will. But be drunken.
Eugene O'Neill