EUGENE O'NEILL

Man's loneliness is but his fear of life.

When men make gods, there is no God!

One should either be sad or joyful. Contentment is a warm sty for eaters and sleepers.

I love every bone in their heads.

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.

Obsessed by a fairy tale, we spend our lives searching for a magic door and a lost kingdom of peace.

Man is born broken. He lives by mending. The grace of God is glue.

Life is for each man a solitary cell whose walls are mirrors.

The past is the present, isn't it? It's the future, too. We all try to lie out of that but life won't let us

Censorship of anything, at any time, in any place, on whatever pretense, has always been and will always be the last resort of the boob and the bigot.

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!

I am so far from being a pessimist...on the contrary, in spite of my scars, I am tickled to death at life.

It's a great game - the pursuit of happiness.

It is Mystery - the mystery any one man or woman can feel but not understand as the meaning of any event - or accident - in any life on earth.

Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

The sea hates a coward.

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.

Happiness hates the timid. So does science.

What's the use coming home to get the blues over what can't be helped.

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?

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.

We need above all to learn again to believe in the possibility of nobility of spirit in ourselves.

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.

The devil! what beastly things our memories insist on cherishing!

The past is the present, isn’t it? It’s the future too.