Plays: The Father; Countess Julie; The Outlaw; The Stronger quotes

CAPTAIN. You're right!

It's like going into a cage full of tigers, and if I didn't hold a red-hot iron under their noses they would tear me to pieces any moment.

And you laugh, you rascal! Wasn't it enough that I married your sister, without your palming off your old stepmother on me?

LAURA.

Yes, it's queer, but I have never looked at a man without knowing myself to be his superior.

CAPTAIN. Then you shall be made to see your superior for once, so that you shall never forget it.

CAPTAIN.

It's risky to take anything on good faith where a woman is concerned.

DOCTOR. Oh, there are so many kinds of women.

CAPTAIN.

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

And how did it happen; how? I have never thought about this, but now memories rise up accusingly, condemningly perhaps. We had been married two years, and had no children; you know why. I fell ill and lay at the point of death.

CAPTAIN. No, I am not. Here is a buried crime that begins to stench, and what a hellish crime!

You women have been compassionate enough to free the black slaves, but you have kept the white ones.

I have worked and slaved for you, your child, your mother, your servants; I have sacrificed promotion and career; I have endured torture, flagellation, sleeplessness, worry for your sake, until my hair has grown gray;

LAURA. Yes, but there was the mistake. 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.

But you had one advantage. I felt that, and I wanted you to feel it.

LAURA. Yes, but there was the mistake.

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. But you had one advantage. I felt that, and I wanted you to feel it.

But, like the rest of mankind, we lived our lives unconscious as children, full of imagination, ideals, and illusions, and then we awoke; it was all over. But we awoke with our feet on the pillow, and he who waked us was himself a sleep-walker.

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

Those who crowed were no longer cocks but capons, and the pullets answered their call, so that when we thought the sun was about to rise we found ourselves in the bright moon light amid ruins, just as in the good old times.

CAPTAIN.

Nothing. One never knows anything. One only believes.

Isn't that true, Jonas? One believes and then one is saved! Yes, to be sure. No, I know that one can be damned by his faith. I know that.

No, it was iron, let me tell you, before it ever glittered. In olden days the smith made the armor, now it is the needle woman. Omphale! Omphale!

Rude strength has fallen before treacherous weakness.

Out on you infernal woman, and damnation on your sex! [He raises himself to spit but falls back on the sofa.] What have you given me for a pillow, Margret? It is so hard, and so cold, so cold. Come and sit near me. There.

JEAN.

Don't step down, Miss Julie. Listen to me—no one would believe that you stepped down of your own accord; people always say that one falls down.

JULIE. I think better of the people than you do. Come—and try them—come!

JULIE. Perhaps. But you are too. Everything is wonderful for that matter. Life, people—everything.

Everything is wreckage, that drifts over the water until it sinks, sinks.

I have the same dream every now and then and at this moment I am reminded of it. I find myself seated at the top of a high pillar and I see no possible way to get down.

JEAN. For what? Are you a child at twenty-five?

Don't you know that it is dangerous to play with fire?

JULIE. Not for me. I am insured!

JEAN. Yes, if you will, it was ridiculous. That was the story I hesitated to tell, but now I'm going to tell it. Do you know how people in high life look from the under world? No, of course you don't.

They look like hawks and eagles whose backs one seldom sees, for they soar up above.

I lived in a hovel provided by the state, with seven brothers and sisters and a pig;

JEAN.

Fall down to my level, I'll lift you up afterwards.

JULIE. What strange power drew me to you—the weak to the strong—the falling to the rising, or is this love! This—love! Do you know what love is?

JEAN. What better could I have hit on!

One must always be romantic to capture a woman.

JULIE. Wretch! Now you have seen the eagle's back, and I suppose I am to be the first limb—

Between them both they have made me half man, half woman. Whose is the fault for what has happened—my father's? My mother's? My own? I haven't anything of my own.

I haven't a thought which was not my father's—not a passion that wasn't my mother's.

And last of all from my betrothed the idea that all people are equal. For that I now call him a wretch. How can it be my own fault then? Throw the burden on Jesus as Kristin did?

THORFINN.

Women folk should have gods.

ORM. Whom do you believe helped you out there in the storm?

ORM.

There are two ways to gain peace: one is never to do anything one regrets—the other never to regret anything one does!

THORFINN. But if one has already done what one regrets?

THORFINN.

Thinking is for old women—doing has been my life.

ORM. What do you intend to do now?

THORFINN.

I dare more! I dare to be forgotten!

ORM. You were always stronger than I. Farewell. We'll meet again. [Orm goes out.]

Now I was no longer alone! I stretched out my hand to caress its rough body; then it fled and I was doubly alone. Again I am on the rocks! What do I fear? Yes, loneliness!

What is loneliness? It is I, myself!

Who am I then to fear myself? Am I not Erl Thorfinn, the strong, who has bowed thousands of wills to his? Who never asked for friendship or love but himself bore his own sorrows! No! No! I am another!

THORFINN. What gave it to you?

ORM. Doubt, misfortune, sorrow.

THORFINN [To Valgerd]. Valgerd, give me your hand, so. Hold fast—tighter—you must not let go until—the end.

that's why my boy is named Eskil—because it's your father's name; that's why I wear your colors, read your authors, eat your favorite dishes, drink your drinks—chocolate, for instance; that's why—oh—my God—it's terrible, when I think about it; it's terrible.

Everything, everything came from you to me, even your passions.

Your soul crept into mine, like a worm into an apple, ate and ate, bored and bored, until nothing was left but the rind and a little black dust within. I wanted to get away from you, but I couldn't;

that's why I wear your colors, read your authors, eat your favorite dishes, drink your drinks—chocolate, for instance; that's why—oh—my God—it's terrible, when I think about it; it's terrible. Everything, everything came from you to me, even your passions.

Your soul crept into mine, like a worm into an apple, ate and ate, bored and bored, until nothing was left but the rind and a little black dust within.

I wanted to get away from you, but I couldn't; you lay like a snake and charmed me with your black eyes; I felt that when I lifted my wings they only dragged me down;

… in the water with bound feet, and the stronger I strove to keep up the deeper I worked myself down, down, until I sank to the bottom, where you lay like a giant crab to clutch me in your claws—and there I am lying now.

I hate you, hate you, hate you!

And you only sit there silent—silent and indifferent; indifferent whether it's new moon or waning moon, Christmas or New Year's, whether others are happy or unhappy; without power to hate or to love;

Well, judging by certain signs, I believe you have already lost him; and you certainly intended that I should leave him—do as you did with your fiancê and regret as you now regret; but, you see, I don't do that—we mustn't be too exacting.

And why should I take only what no one else wants?

Perhaps, take it all in all, I am at this moment the stronger one. You received nothing from me, but you gave me much. And now I seem like a thief since you have awakened and find I possess what is your loss.

and you certainly intended that I should leave him—do as you did with your fiancê and regret as you now regret; but, you see, I don't do that—we mustn't be too exacting. And why should I take only what no one else wants?

Perhaps, take it all in all, I am at this moment the stronger one.

You received nothing from me, but you gave me much. And now I seem like a thief since you have awakened and find I possess what is your loss. How could it be otherwise when everything is worthless and sterile in your hands?

You can't learn how to live from your authors, as I have learned. You have no little Eskil to cherish, even if your father's name was Eskil. And why are you always silent, silent, silent?

I thought that was strength, but perhaps it is because you have nothing to say! Because you never think about anything!

[Rises and picks up slippers.]

Now I'm going home—and take the tulips with me—your tulips!

You are unable to learn from another; you can't bend—therefore, you broke like a dry stalk.

But I won't break! Thank you, Amelie, for all your good lessons. Thanks for teaching my husband how to love. Now I'm going home to love him. [Goes.]