1
" 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… — "
― August Strindberg , Miss Julie and Other Plays
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" 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 "
― August Strindberg , Miss Julie and Other Plays
