“I'm going to smile, and my smile will sink down into your pupils, and heaven knows what it will become.”
“You are -- your life, and nothing else.”
“So this is hell. I'd never have believed it. You remember all we were told about the torture-chambers, the fire and brimstone, the "burning marl." Old wives' tales! There's no need for red-hot pokers. Hell is—other people!”
“I never could bear the idea of anyone's expecting something from me. It
always made me want to do just the opposite.”
“As for me, I am mean: that means that I need the suffering of others to exist. A flame. A flame in their hearts. When I am all alone, I am extinguished.”
“Anything, anything would be better than this agony of mind, this creeping pain that gnaws and fumbles and caresses one and never hurts quite enough.”
“INEZ: Prove it. Prove it was no dream. It’s what one does, and nothing else, that shows the stuff one's made of.
GARCIN: I died too soon. I wasn't allowed time to - to do my deeds.
INEZ: One always dies too soon - or too late. And yet one's whole life is complete at that moment, with a line drawn neatly under it, ready for the summing up. You are - your life, and nothing else.”
“كانت حياتي كلها أمامي مغلقة كالحقيبة ومع ذلك فكل شيء بداخلها قد انتهى امره في لحظة، وكنت اريد ان اقتنع بأنها حياة جميلة ولكنني لم اوفق على هذا الحكم، كان مجرد صورة تخطيطية سريعة، لقد قضيت حياتي أصارع الأبدية..لم افهم شيئاً..لم انسى شيئاً..كان من الممكن ان انسى اشياء كثيرة.ــ الحائط”
“لكنه كان مستريحا هادئا لأنه يحس بالبرد ولهذا فهو يحس بالحياة ــ الحائط”
“لكنني الآن في هذه الليلة ارى السماء خالية من كل شيء وشعرت براحة لأن السماء لا توحي لي بشيء ــ الحائط”
“So it comes to this; one doesn’t need rest. Why bother about sleep if one isn’t sleepy? That stands to reason, doesn’t it? Wait a minute, there’s a snag somewhere; something disagreeable. Why, now, should it be disagreeable? …Ah, I see; it’s life without a break.”
“There were days when you peered into yourself, into the secret places of your heart, and what you saw there made you faint with horror. And then, next day, you didn't know what to make of it,you couldn't interpret the horror you had glimpsed the day before. Yes, you know what evil costs.”
“Your scare me rather. My reflection in the glass never did that; of course, I knew it so well. Like something I had tamed...I'm going to smile, and my smile will sink down into your pupils, and heaven knows what it will become.”
“فانتظار الساعات كانتظار السنين حينما تفقد روعة الخلود وبهجتها ووهجها ــ الحائط”
“أينز: لماذا كنت تؤلمها هكذا؟
جارسيا: كان الأمر سهلا، كلمة واحدة كافية لتجعلها راضية ــ الجحيم”
“Much more likely you’ll hurt me. Still what does it matter? If I’ve got to suffer, it may as well be at your hands, your pretty hands.”
“Remember you're not alone; you've no right to inflict the sight of your fear on me.”
“INEZ: To forget about the others? How utterly absurd! I feel you there, in every pore.Your silence clamours in my ears. You can nail up your mouth, cut your tongue out - but you can't prevent your being there. Can you stop your thoughts? I hear them ticking away like a clock, tick-tock, tick-tock, and I'm certain you hear mine. It's all very well skulking on your sofa, but you're everywhere, and every sound comes to me soiled because you've intercepted it on its way. Why, you've even stolen my face; you know it and I don't ! And what about her, about Estelle? You've stolen her from me, too; if she and I were alone do you suppose she'd treat me as she does? No, take your hands from your face, I won't leave you in peace - that would suit your book too well. You'd go on sitting there, in a sort of trance, like a yogi, and even if I didn't see her I'd feel it in my bones - that she was making every sound, even the rustle of her dress, for your benefit, throwing you smiles you didn't see... Well, I won't stand for that, I prefer to choose my hell; I prefer to look you in the eyes and fight it out face to face.”
“You're lucky. I'm always conscious of myself —in my mind. Painfully conscious.”
“On meurt toujours trop tôt ― ou trop tard. Et cependant la vie est là, terminée: le trait est tiré, il faut faire la somme. Tu n'es rien d'autre que ta vie.”
“INEZ: What's the matter?
ESTELLE: I feel so queer. Don't you ever get taken that way? When I can't see myself I begin to wonder if I really and truly exist. I pat myself just to make sure, but it doesn't help much.”
“Human feeling. That's beyond my range. I'm rotten to the core”
“Je ne suis rien que le regard qui te voit, que cette pensée incolore qui te pense.”
“Oh, what a nuisance you are! I'm giving you my mouth, my arms, my whole body - and everything could be so simple...My trust! I haven't any to give, I'm afraid, and you're making me terribly embarrassed. You must have something pretty ghastly on your conscience to make such a fuss about my trusting you.”
“Don’t be afraid; I’ll keep looking at you for ever and ever, without a flutter of my eyelids, and you’ll live in my gaze like a mote in a sunbeam.”
“L'enfer, c'est les autres [Hell is other people]”
“Peut-on juger une vie sur un seul acte ?”
“INEZ: There...you know the way the catch larks - with a mirror? I'm your lark-mirror,my dear, and you can't escape me...There isn't any pimple, not a trace of one. So what about it? Suppose the mirror started telling lies? Or suppose I covered my eyes - as he is doing - and refused to look at you, all that loveliness of yours would be wasted on the desert air. No, don't be afraid, I can't help looking at you. I shan't turn my eyes away. AndI'll be nice to you, ever so nice. Only you must be nice to me too.”
“But it is one thing to resolve to die, quite another to actually carry out that resolve in the midst of dying.”
“If any particle we haven’t yet found lasted long enough and interacted with ordinary matter with sufficient strength that it could possibly affect the physics of everyday goings-on, we would have produced it in experiments by now. One”
“Ever since puberty I have believed in the value of two things: kindness and clear thinking. At first these two remained more or less distinct; when I felt triumphant I believed most in clear thinking, and in the opposite mood I believed most in kindness. Gradually, the two have come more and more together in my feelings. I find that much unclear thought exists as an excuse for cruelty, and that much cruelty is prompted by superstitious beliefs.”
“Light, seeking light, doth light of light beguile; So ere you find where light in darkness lies, Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes.”
“Look, I promise I’m not psychotic. Eccentric and idiosyncratic, but not psychotic. (Sebastian)
I’ll bet the prisons are full of men who have told women that. (Channon)”
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