Hedda Gabler Quotes

It's a liberation to know that an act of spontaneous courage is yet possible in this world. An act that has something of unconditional beauty.

It’s a release to know that in spite of everything a premeditated act of courage is still possible.

Good god, people don't do such things!

I can see him already—with vine-leaves in his hair—flushed and fearless.

Oh, what curse is it that makes everything I touch turn ludicrous and mean?

Do think it quite incomprehensible that a young girl—when it can be done—without any one knowing—should be glad to have a peep, now and then, into a world which—which she is forbidden to know anything about?

I am burning—I am burning your child.

She was standing ramrod stiff by the stairs wearing an expression that called to mind Hedda Gabler as portrayed by Yosemite Sam.

Eljert Lovborg...listen to me...Couldn't you let it happen...beautifully?

Eljert Lovborg...listen to me...couldn't you let it happen beautifully?

But our home has never been anything but a playroom. I've been your doll-wife, just as I used to be papa's doll-child. And the children have been my dolls. I used to think it was fun when you came in and played with me, just as they think it's fun when I go in and play games with them. That's all our marriage has been, Torvald.

He’s an extraordinary man, he has such… um… ah… how can I describe him? It’s very difficult really… He’s a perfectionist. And he has… knows exactly what he wants. Knows how to get it. And he has many methods of getting what he wants. Um… he’s very inventive, his talk about the characters was really illuminating and kind of crashed open barriers, you know, there was nothing safe about the way he works. And his descriptions of the characters… I was playing Mrs Elvsted [in Hedda Gabler at the National Theatre] and he said: ‘She enters and there is a scream inside her up to here [raises top side of hand to below chin, slightly tilts head back - as if just keeping head above water]’… I mean what a wonderful note. You can’t go wrong, can you really? And then other times he might… there was a scene I was having some difficulty with, getting the strength and the depth of emotional reaction to something Løvborg had said to me which was… hideous to hear. And I couldn’t get it. And so he came on and he said ‘Alright, I’m Løvborg.’ And then he said what he said and I still couldn’t… And he just [gestures slap across the face] flicked me across the cheek with his hand. And I went [makes face of immediate rage]… whoosh… [makes gesture with hand of firework or rocket shooting up] and of course he’d released all the emotion that I couldn’t find intellectually [points to head]. With just that little [taps/ slaps face] And of course… grrrrr, I was like a tiger leaping out of the cage. That was the only time he ever did anything… very un-PLC or whatever the phrase is now. But it was perfect. Perfect.

oh, high and painful joy - to struggle for the unattainable

I'd danced myself tired

courage. Yes. If only one had that - … one might be able to live

I can see him. With a crown of vine leaves in his hair. Burning and unashamed … then he’ll be himself again! He’ll be a free man for the rest of his days

for once in my life I want to have the power to shape a man’s destiny

Eilert Loevborg has settled his account with life

If we regard sadism as a neurotic symptom, we must start, as always, not by trying to explain the symptom but by seeking to understand the structure of the personality that develops it. When we approach the problem from this angle we recognize that nobody develops pronounced sadistic trends who has not a profound feeling of futility as regards his own life... In the case of both Hedda Gabler and the Seducer, the possibility of ever making something of themselves or their lives was a more or less closed issue. If under these circumstances a person cannot find his way to resignation, he of necessity becomes utterly resentful. He feels forever excluded, forever defeated. Hence he starts to hate life and all that is positive in it. But he hates it with the burning envy of one who is withheld from something he ardently desires. It is the bitter, begrudging envy of a person who feels that life is passing him... He does not feel that others have their sorrows, too: "they" sit at the table while he goes hungry; "they" love, create, enjoy, feel healthy and at ease, belong somewhere. The happiness of others and their "naïve" expectations of pleasure and joy irritate him. If he cannot be happy and free, why should they be so? In the words of Dostoevski's Idiot, he cannot forgive them their happiness. He must trample on the joy of others.