Eugene O'Neill
Quotes
It wasn't the fog I minded, Cathleen. I really love fog. It hides you from the world and the world from you. You feel that everything has changed, and nothing is what it seemed to be. No one can find or touch you any more. Its the foghorn I hate. It won't let you alone. It keeps reminding you, and warning you, and calling you back.
Long Day's Journey Into NightBut I suppose life has made him like that, and he can't help it. None of us can help the things life has done to us. They're done before you realize it, and once they're done they make you do other things until at last everything comes between you and what you'd like to be, and you've lost your true self forever.
Long Day's Journey Into NightI 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.
Long Day's Journey Into NightIt kills the pain. You go back until at last you are beyond its reach. Only the past when you were happy is real.
Long Day's Journey Into NightYes, I remember. I fell in love with James Tyrone and was so happy for a time
Long Day's Journey Into NightI'm as drunk as a fiddler's bitch.
Long Day's Journey Into NightDon't cry. The damned don't cry.
Mourning Becomes ElectraWhat the hell was it I wanted to buy, I wonder, that was worth—Well no matter. It's a late day for regrets.
Long Day's Journey Into NightI 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!
Long Day's Journey Into NightHow 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.
Long Day's Journey Into Night
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