August Strindberg Quotes

Life is not so idiotically mathematical that only the big eat the small; it is just as common for a bee to kill a lion or at least to drive it mad.

There are poisons that blind you, and poisons that open your eyes.

It's wonderful how, the moment you talk about God and love, your voice becomes hard, and your eyes fill with hatred. No, Margret, you certainly haven't the true faith.

I dream, therefore I exist.

Autumn is my spring!

Love between a man and woman is war.

I, too, am beginning to feel an immense need to become a savage and create a new world.

if you are afraid of loneliness, don't get married

We are already in Hell. It is the earth itself that is Hell, the prison constructed for us by an intelligence superior to our own, in which I could not take a step without injuring the happiness of others, and in which my fellow creatures could not enjoy their own happiness without causing me pain.

The further from one another, the nearer one can be.

And why does man weep when he is sad? I asked at last—Because the glass in the eyes must be washed now and then, so that we can see clearly, said the child.

Everything can happen, everything is possible and probable. Time and place do not exist; on an insignificant basis of reality the imagination spins, weaving new patterns; a mixture of memories, experiences, free fancies, incongruities and improvisations.

Those who won't accept evil never get anything good.

I loathe people who keep dogs. They are cowards who haven't got the guts to bite people themselves.

You are impossible. You are only a realist, and therefore nothing happens to you.

A man with a so-called character is often a simple piece of mechanism; he has often only one point of view for the extremely complicated relationships of life.

One gets more and more humble the longer one lives, and in the shadow of death many things look different.

as soon as a work of art is of practical use, betrays a purpose or a tendency its beauty vanishes.

He saw the cause of his unhappiness in the family--the family as a social institution, which does not permit the child to become an independent individual at the proper time.

Every moment of enjoyment Brings to some one else a sorrow, But your sorrow gladdens no one, For from sorrow naught but sorrow springs.

At last everything was satisfactorily arranged, and I could not help admiring the setting: these mingled touches betrayed on a small scale the inspiration of a poet, the research of a scientist, the good taste of an artist, the gourmet’s fondness for good food, and the love of flowers, which concealed in their delicate shadows a hint of the love of women

Yes, I am crying although I am a man. But has not a man eyes! Has not a man hands, limbs, senses, thoughts, passions? Is he not fed with the wine food, hurt by the same weapons, warmed and cooled by the same summer and winter as a woman? If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? And if you poison us, do we not die? Why shouldn't a man complain, a soldier weep? Because it is unmanly? Why is it unmanly?

I am a socialist, a nihilist, a republican, anything that is anti-reactionary!... I want to turn everything upside down to see what lies beneath; I believe we are so webbed, so horribly regimented, that no spring-cleaning is possible, everything must be burned, blown to bits, and then we can start afresh...

How sweet is life after all, when the mist of a mild intoxication casts its veil over the miseries of existence.

For the whole of life consists of nothing but contradictions. The rich are the poor in spirit; the many little men hold the power, and the great only serve the little men. I've never met such proud people as the humble; I've never met an uneducated man who didn't believe himself in a position to criticise learning and to do without it.

This feeling of power, it's happiness to sit in a cottage by the Danube among six women who think I'm semi-idiot, and to know that in Paris, the headquarters of intelligence, 500 people are sitting dead-quiet in the auditorium and are foolish enough to expose their brains to my powers of suggestion. Some revolt! But many will go away with my spores in their gray matter. They will go home pregnant with the seed of my soul, and they will breed my brood.

The ball was held in a middle-class home. The girls were anemic - some of them; the others were red as raspberries. John liked the pale ones best, the ones with black or blue rings round their eyes. They looked so sad and suffering and pitiable, and they cast tender yearning glances at him, such yearning glances.

Speaking at last becomes a vice, like drinking. And why speak, if words do not cloak thoughts ?

He liked the girls, liked to hold them around the waist, felt like a man when he did. But as for talking with them, no, no! Then he felt as though he were dealing with another species of human being, in some cases a higher one, in others a lower. He secretly admired the weak, pale, little girl and had picked her to be his wife. That was still the only way he could think of a woman - as a wife. He danced in a very chaste and proper manner, but he heard awful stories about his pals, stories he didn't understand until later. They could dance the waltz backwards around the room in a very indecent way, and they told naughty stories about the girls.

When women grow old and cease being women, they get beards on their chins; I wonder what men get when they grow old and cease to be men?

I so despise people who keep dogs, they are cowards that havent got the curridge to bite themselfs

Ah, what is then this earthly life, But grief, affliction and great strife? E’en when fairest it has seemed, Nought but pain it can be deemed.

The mother was your friend, you see, but the woman was your enemy, and love between the sexes is strife. Do not think that I gave myself; I did not give, but I took—what I wanted.

Because the child bound us together; but the link became a chain.

Henrik Ibsen hung a picture of August Strindberg over his desk. “He is my mortal enemy and shall hang there and watch while I write!” explained Ibsen.

Av - att vara till; att känna min syn försvagad av ett öga, min hörsel förslöad av ett öra, och min tanke, min luftiga ljusa tanke bunden i fettslyngors labyrinter. Du har ju sett en hjärna... vilka krokvägar, vilka krypvägar...

MOTHER. Is he mad, or a rascal? LADY. He's neither. He's no ordinary man; and it's a pity I can tell him nothing he doesn't know already. That's why we don't speak much; but he's glad to have me near him; and so am I to be near him.

I once asked a little boy why the sea was salt, and the boy, whose father was away on a long journey, said right away, "The sea is salt because the sailors cry so much." "But why do the sailors cry so much?" I asked. "Because," he said, "they always have to go away from home- and that's why they're always drying their handkerchiefs up on the masthead!" And then I asked him, "But why do people cry when they're sad?" And he said, "That's because they have to wash the glasses of their eyes so they can see better.

tell me this: how was it you came to love me? LADY. I don't know; but I'll try to remember. (Pause.) Well, you had the masculine courage to be rude to a lady. In me you sought the companionship of a human being and not merely of a woman. That honoured me; and, I thought, you too.

Family ... the home of all social evil, a charitable institution for comfortable women, an anchorage for house-fathers, and a hell for children.

Must I be humbled in order to be lifted up, made low in order to be raised high?

On a flimsy framework of reality, imagination spins, weaving new patterns.

Ştiţi cum se văd cei înstăriţi priviţi de jos? Nu, nu ştiţi! Ca ulii şi ca şoimii, a căror spate nu-l zărim decât rareori, fiindcă ei zboară aproape tot timpul acolo sus!

But unfortunately, I am a man, and there is nothing for me to do but, like a Roman, fold my arms across my breast and hold my breath till I die. DOCTOR.

My child? A man has no children, it is only woman who has children, and therefore the future is hers when we die childless.

people who keep dogs . . . are cowards who haven’t got the guts to bite people themselves. August Strindberg

Aldous Huxley, Goethe, D.H. Lawrence, August Strindberg ve Jack London gibi ünlüler Beden Dışı Deneyim yaşadıklarını bildirmişlerdir.

theology, the doctrine of God, which is always attacked and ridiculed by philosophy, which claims to be wisdom itself. And medicine, which always questions the validity of philosophy, and doesn’t consider theology a science but a superstition…

As one takes leave of a friend, a place, How the loss of all one has loved rises up, And regret for what one has destroyed… Ah, now I know all the agony of living, So this is what it means to be mortal— — — One misses even what one has not valued, One regrets even misdeeds never done… One yearns to go, and yet one longs to stay… So the heart’s two halves are rent asunder, As if wild horses were pulling it apart, torn to pieces By contradiction, indecision, disharmony… —

is this carnival, or ... reality?

Não, eu prefiro o silêncio, no silêncio ouvem-se os pensamentos e vê-se o passado, o silêncio não pode esconder... o que as palavras escondem.

KURT. Then he does love you! ALICE. Probably. But that doesn’t stop him from hating me. KURT

—He really is the most arrogant person I’ve ever come across. ‘I am, therefore God exists’. ALICE

If a flower you covet, straightway you are told it is another's.

Poor souls. I feel so sorry for them.

Here come the guests. Keep calm, now, and we'll go on playing our old roles.

This house is full of women who all want to have their say about my child.

All that on earth hath life and breath To earth must fall before his spear, And sorrow, saved alone from death, Inscribes above the mighty bier. Vanity, all is vanity. Yes,

My daughter became my enemy when she had to choose between me and you. And you, my wife, you have been my archenemy, because you never let up on me till I lay here lifeless. LAURA.

Ah woe is me, how sad a thing Is life within this vale of tears, Death’s angel triumphs like a king, And calls aloud to all the spheres— Vanity, all is vanity. Yes,

Do you suppose that he would have spoken if he had been alive? And do you suppose that if any of the dead husbands came back they would be believed?

It appears from these letters that for some time past you have been arraying my old friends against me by spreading reports about my mental condition.

Now you have fulfilled your function as an unfortunately necessary father and breadwinner, you are not needed any longer and you must go.

И зимата отмина, бавно за нещастните, по-бързо за по-малко нещастните. И дойде пролетта с напразните надежди за слънце и зеленина, докато настъпи лятото като кратка подготовка за есента.

—¿Qué es el amor? —preguntó Adèle mientras miraba la luna como si buscara la respuesta en el cielo. —Es la simpatía de las almas —susurró el abogado con una voz que parecía proceder del viento.

He neither acquits nor condemns, but merely relates, and, just as a dream is more often painful than happy, so a tone of melancholy and pity for all mortal beings runs through this uncertain tale.

In the midst of happiness grows a seed of unhappiness. Happiness consumes itself like a flame. It cannot burn for ever, it must go out, and the presentiment of its end destroys it at its very peak.

THE VOICE: The best I cannot call it, nor the worst. Its name is Dust; and like them all, it rolls: And therefore dizzy sometimes grows the race, And seems to be half foolish and half mad— Take courage, child—a trial, that is all!

Det är vinter igen; himlen är grå och ljuset kommer nerifrån, från markens vita snö. Ensamheten står bra i ton med naturens skendöd, men ibland blir det för tungt. Jag längtar efter människor, men jag har i ensamheten blivit så ömtålig som om min själ vore hudlös, och jag är så bortskämd med att få styra mina tankar och känslor att jag knappt kan uthärda beröringen med en annan person; ja varje främmande som nalkas mig verkar kvävande genom sin andliga atmosfär vilken liksom tränger in på min.

Arvid reste sig för att gå. —Nej, sitt! –sitt!, sitt!—. Om någon hund varit närvarande, skulle han genast suttit.” // “Arvid se levantó para irse. —¡No, siéntate! –¡siéntate!, ¡siéntate!—. Si hubiera habido algún perro presente, éste se hubiera sentado de inmediato”.

Jag återvänder till mitt yttrande att vi sakna nationalitet. Kan någon säga mig något svenskt i Sverige annat än våra tallar, granar och järngruvor, vilka snart icke behövas mer i marknaden! Vad äro våra folkvisor? Franska, engelska och tyska romanser, i dålig översättning! [...] Säg mig något svenskt skaldestycke, konstverk, musikstycke, som är specifikt svenskt, varigenom det skiljer sig från alla icke-svenska! Visa mig en svensk byggnad! Det finns icke, och finns det så är det antingen dåligt eller är det bildat efter utländskt mönster.

Han tände en cigarr och ställde sig att betrakta porträttet. Den som observerat hans ansikte nu, skulle icke kunna se hans tankar, ty han hade redan lärt sig så mycket om livets konst att han icke en gång anförtrodde ensamheten sina meningar, ja, han fruktade till och med att meddela sig med sig själv.

THE DAUGHTER: You named the earth—is that the ponderous world And dark, that from the moon must take its light? THE VOICE: It is the heaviest and densest sphere. Of all that travel through the space. THE DAUGHTER: And is it never brightened by the sun? THE VOICE: Of course, the sun does reach it—now and then—

Every trace of illusion was gone—it was nothing but smears of paint, and I quaked at the thought of having believed, and having made others believe, that a painted canvas could be anything but a painted canvas. The veil had fallen from my eyes, and it was just as impossible for me to paint any more as it was to become a child again.

Budući da ništa nisu odgovarali,kapnuo sam na mikroskop kap kiseline. Mrtva se materija nadula, nemirno se pokretala amo-tamo, počela je i živeti, ispuštala vonj truleži, ponovo se umirila i umrla. Bez sumnje, mogu probuditi mrtve, ali neću to ponoviti još jednom, jer mrtvi imaju neugodan zadah poput bludnika nakon probančene noći. Zar ne spavaju čvrsto tu dole čekajući uskrsnuće?

CAPTAIN. Yes, I’m crying, even though I am a man. But has not a man eyes? Has not a man hands, organs, senses, affections, passions? Does he not live by the same food, is he not hurt with the same weapons, is he not warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as a woman is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? Why should a man not complain, a soldier weep?* Because it’s unmanly! Why is it unmanly? LAURA

En el gnosticismo y el neoplatonismo la noción sobre la evolución material de los elementos hacia formas superiores se combinaba con el esfuerzo de purificar el alma; la transmutación se convirtió en un equivalente simbólico de la autoperfección y purificación del alma. El énfasis se puede poner en la química o en la concepción de la vida, pero no hay duda de que a quien reproduce la tradición y trabaja con la Grand Œuvre (Gran Obra) para obtener la piedra filosofal se le puede llamar alquimista.

Затова се ограничих до една-единствена обстановка на сцената - и за да постигна сливането на персонажите с обкръжението им, и за да сложа край на лукса при декорите. Щом обаче е налице една обстановка, тя трябва да е съвсем достоверна. Ала няма нищо по-трудно от това, една стая на сцената да прилича на истинска стая, независимо колко е сръчен художникът на театъра в изрисуването на вулкани, бълващи лава, и на водопади. Дори да се налага стенните ѝ да бъдат платнени, крайно време е по тях вече да не се изографисват кухненски рафтове и посуда. Има толкова други условности на сцената, в които се изисква да повярваме, че може поне да ни се спести усилието да вярваме на изтипосани тенджери. из предговора към "Госпожица Юлия

Schoolmaster: Now, my boy, can you tell me how much two times two is? ... Officer: Two... times two... Let me see! That makes two two! Schoolmaster: Well, well... somebody hasn't done his homework! Officer: (ashamed) Yes, I have, but... I know what it is, but I can't say it... Schoolmaster: You're trying to get out of it! You know, but you can't say. Perhaps I can help you! (He pulls the Officer's hair) Officer: Oh, this is dreadful, really dreadful! Schoolmaster: Yes, dreadful, that's precisely what it is when a big boy like you has no ambition. Officer: Yes, that's right, one must mature... Two times two... is two, and I can prove it by analogy, the highest form of proof. Listen, now! ... One times one is one, so two times two must be two! For what applies to one must apply the other! Schoolmaster: This proof accords perfectly with the laws of logic, but the answer is wrong.

I loathe people who keep dogs. They are cowards who haven’t got the guts to bite people themselves. — AUGUST STRINDBERG

E bisogna anche dire il pessimismo preso volgarmente alla lettera, e maldestramente confuso con l'ipocondria, rappresenta un modo di guardare al mondo molto forte e consolatorio. Se il tutto non è che un nulla relativo, perché prendersela tanto; se la verità è qualcosa di contingente, visto che s'è appena scoperto che la verità di oggi si muterà nella stupidaggine di domani, perché sprecare le forze della giovinezza per scoprire nuove stupidaggini; se la sola cosa certa che ci rimane è la morte, tiriamo a campare!

Религиозното чувство започна да овладява Лундел до такава степен, че компанията намери за добре да си тръгне.

- Леле, какъв си издокаран, братко! - Намираш ли? Но и ти приличаш на салонен лъв.

- Значи ме смятате за негоден да стана актьор? - Дума да не става! Никого не смятам за негоден! Напротив! Всички хора притежават, повече или по-малко, дарбата да изиграят ролята на други хора!

Часът стана един, после два, а те продължаваха, докато Нюстрьом спеше несмутимо с глава и ръце върху масата. Кантората тънеше в сумрак от тютюневия дим, през който едва мъждееха пламъчетата на газовите лампи; всичките свещи на седмораменния свещник бяха догорели и трапезата имаше ужасен вид. На някоя и друга чаша липсваше столчето, лекьосаната покривка беше поръсена с пепел от пури, по пода лежаха разпилени кибритени клечки. През пролуките на капаците се процеждаше вече дневна светлина, пречупваше се на дълги лъчи през облака от тютюнев дим и образуваше кабалистична фигура върху покривката между двамата поборници на вярата, които най-усърдно прередактираха Аугсбургското изповедание. Говореха завалено, мозъците им действаха мудно, думите им звучаха все по-суховато, настървението гаснеше въпреки честото доливане на гориво, все още се опитваха да разпалят възторга, но той само припламваше ли, припламваше, духът отлиташе, те изричаха думи без значение, а скоро угасна и последната искра. Замъглените им мозъци, работили досега като пумпали, шибани с камшик, изнемощяха и безпомощно отпаднаха. Оставаше им една-едничка бистра мисъл: да вървят да спят, иначе щяха да се отвратят един от друг, искаха да останат насаме със себе си!

Но какво се беше случило на този нещастник, та изглеждаше тъй неизмеримо щастлив? Знаем, че не е спечелили от лотария, не е получил наследство, не му е оказано достойно признание, не е постигнал онова сладостно щастие, което не се поддава на описание: тогава както му се бе случило? Много просто: беше получил работа!

Веселбата кипеше, но смеховете бяха прекалено пронизителни, лееха се остроумия, обаче те накиселяваха. Фалк се притесни и му се стори, че бащиният му лик гледа гневно компанията от портрета, който висеше над пианото.

Големите му открити и лицемерни очи пленяваха събеседника и му изтръгваха съкровени мисли, с които той после злоупотребяваше по честен начин; леко приглушеният му глас, произнасящ само думи на обич, мир, справедливост и преди всичко на родолюбие, примамваше мнозина заблудени слушатели да се събират около масата с пунша, където превъзходният мъж прекарваше вечерите си, като разпространяваше правдивост и родолюбие.

Животът не е дотам идиотски математически, че само големите да изяждат малките, напротив, също тъй често се случва осата да убие лъва или поне да го влуди. из предговора към "Госпожица Юлия

To je naposletku samoća: umotati se u svilu sopstvene duše, učauriti se i čekati metamorfozu, jer ona neće izostati. Čovek u međuvremenu živi od svojih doživljaja i telepatski proživljava tuđe živote. Smrt i vaskrsenje; jedno novo vaspitavanje za nepoznate novine. Najzad, čovek sam ovlada svojom ličnošću. Ničije misli ne kontrolišu moje, ničiji me stavovi, hirovi ne pritiskaju. Sada duša počinje da raste u novostečenoj slobodi, čovek iskušava neizmeran unutrašnji mir, tihu radost i osećanje sigurnosti i odgovornosti prema samom sebi.

... conhece a vida e os homens através do sofrimento, e os despreza com esse forte e nobre desdém que tem origem na profunda convicção da relativa nulidade de tudo, inclusive o próprio eu.

Lawyer: And what people live on is a mystery to me. They marry with an income of two thousand crowns when they need four. They borrow, to be sure, they all borrow ... but who has to pay in the end? Tell me that! Daughter: He Who feeds the birds.

Les livres sont faits pour être lus, c'est pour cela qu'on les prête, qu'ils continuent leur chemin et que l'on ne vous les rende jamais.

Genom att försöka göra det omöjliga når man högsta graden av det möjliga.

Allt kan ske, allt är möjligt och sannolikt. Tid och rum existera icke; på en obetydlig verklighetsgrund spinner inbillningen ut och väver nya mönster: en blandning av minnen, upplevelser, fria påhitt, orimligheter och improvisationer.

I bought flowers this morning: needed some light but got darkness that grew blacker towards the evening.

I got up at 5 o'clock and saw the sun rise in a marvelous sky. A bright heart of light with a green rim fell on my bed three times.

she wants me to embrace her, but I do not want to abuse eros, or her.

she seeks me like roses in my mouth.

Both life and nature are black.