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“Happy roads is bunk. Weary roads is right. Get you nowhere fast. That's where I've got—nowhere. Where everyone lands in the end, even if most of the suckers won't admit it.”
― Eugene O'Neill, Long Day's Journey Into Night
― Eugene O'Neill, Long Day's Journey Into Night
“He thinks money spent on a home is money wasted. He's lived too much in hotels. Never the best hotels, of course. Second-rate hotels. He doesn't understand a home. He doesn't feel at home in it. And yet, he wants a home. He's even proud of having this shabby place. He loves it here.”
― Eugene O'Neill, Long Day's Journey Into Night
― Eugene O'Neill, Long Day's Journey Into Night
“Consider what you would do with some of the many hours and a share of the energy that you now squander on people who contribute little or nothing to your income or happiness or development as a human being.”
― Nicholas Samstag, The Uses of Ineptitude or How Not To Want To Do Better
― Nicholas Samstag, The Uses of Ineptitude or How Not To Want To Do Better
“Judas sold his soul for thirty pieces of silver; Faust sold his for some extra years of youth; Marilyn Monroe deserted Jesus Christ for Arthur Miller.”
― Nicholas Samstag, The Uses of Ineptitude or How Not To Want To Do Better
― Nicholas Samstag, The Uses of Ineptitude or How Not To Want To Do Better
“The fog was where I wanted to be. Halfway down the path you can’t see this house. You’d never know it was here. Or any of the other places down the avenue. I couldn’t see but a few feet ahead. I didn’t meet a soul. Everything looked and sounded unreal. Nothing was what it is. That’s what I wanted—to be alone with myself in another world where truth is untrue and life can hide from itself. Out beyond the harbor, where the road runs along the beach, I even lost the feeling of being on land. The fog and the sea seemed part of each other. It was like walking on the bottom of the sea. As if I had drowned long ago. As if I was the ghost belonging to the fog, and the fog was the ghost of the sea. It felt damned peaceful to be nothing more than a ghost within a ghost.”
― Eugene O'Neill, Long Day's Journey Into Night
― Eugene O'Neill, Long Day's Journey Into Night
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