August Strindberg
August Strindberg
Johan August Strindberg; 22 January 1849 – 14 May 1912) was a Swedish playwright, novelist, poet, essayist and painter. A prolific writer who often drew directly on his personal experience, Strindberg's career spanned four decades, during which time he wrote over 60 plays and more than 30 works of fiction, autobiography, history, cultural analysis, and politics. A bold experimenter and iconoclast throughout, he explored a wide range of dramatic methods and purposes, from naturalistic tragedy, monodrama, and history plays, to...
NationalitySwedish
ProfessionPlaywright
Date of Birth22 January 1849
CityStockholm, Sweden
CountrySweden
I see the playwright as a lay preacher peddling the ideas of his time in popular form.
Because in the midst of happiness there is always a seed of unhappiness; it consumes itself like fire--it can't burn forever, sooner or later it must die; and this presentiment of the end destroys my happiness when it is at is height.
It's risky to take anything on good faith where a woman is concerned.
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.
The further from one another, the nearer one can be.
I hated her now with a hatred more fatal than indifference because it was the other side of love.
I always disliked dogs, those protectors of cowards who lack the courage to fight an assailant themselves.
I, too, am beginning to feel an immense need to become a savage and create a new world.
Family . . . the home of all social evil, a charitable institution for comfortable women, an anchorage for house-fathers, and a hell for children.
Sorrow has the fortunate peculiarity that it preys upon itself. It dies of starvation. Since it is essentially an interruption of habits, it can be replaced by new habits. Constituting, as it does, a void, it is soon filled up by a real horror vacuum.
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.
Everything can happen, everything is possible and probable. Time and place do not exist; on a significant bases of reality, the imagination spins, weaving new patterns; a mixture of memories, experiences, free fancies, incongruities and improvisations.
Oh, I have loved him too much to feel no hate for him.
What is economics? A science invented by the upper class in order to acquire the fruits of the labor of the underclass