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Quote by Judith Krantz

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Scruples

This book delves into the complexities of ethical decision-making, focusing on the protagonist's struggle with moral dilemmas amidst a backdrop of corporate intrigue and personal relationships. more

Author

Judith Krantz
Judith Krantz

Judith Krantz is a renowned American novelist, born on January 9, 1928. She is known for her works that depict the lives of the upper class, love, and family relationships, which have won her a large following. more

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“Ivanov: No, my clever young thing, it's not a question of romance. I say as before God that I will endure everything - depression and mental illness and ruin and the loss of my wife and premature old age and loneliness - but I cannot tolerate, cannot endure being ridiculous in my own eyes. I'm dying of shame at the thought that I, a healthy, strong man, have turned into some sort of Hamlet or Manfred, some sort of 'superfluous man'... devil knows precisely what! There are pitiful people who are flattered by being called Hamlet or superfluous men, but for me it's a disgrace! It stirs up my pride, I'm overcome by shame and I suffer...”

“His world closes in. The sky is endless no longer but pieced into squares of brick and bright cloths hanging down to dry. Underfoot, no longer stone but rubble, earth, the peelings and rotted scraps of the inedible. He smells the smoke of cooking fires, he hears men arguing and babies screaming like seagulls, he sees young women looking shyly down from high windows, exchanging glances. Now, he is no longer the watcher. Watched. Shouts echo in the dark between twisted walls and back alleys. A twisted smile in a doorway. A stranger’s voice. A stranger’s language.”

“She asked me "what is it about these people - the silent ones, the thinking ones, and the brooding ones why do I get drawn to them without knowing them? what is it about them? is there a magnetic force about them? or do they cast a spell on me? what is it about these people! the misfits the poets, the writers, the painters, the singers, the dancers, the musicians, and all the ones who create art? what is it that pulls me to them? is it their craft their passion their words their thoughts their loneliness. their life? what is it about these people?" And I smiled and said "I will search the answers to your questions in my loneliness.”

“And the complete truth of this statement shocks me, because I am mostly on my own. I am so permanently alone that I can feel it in my bones, in my eyeballs, in the roots of my hair. I feel loneliness like a physical presence, as if someone heavy is sitting on my chest. I feel it when I wake up and I feel it when I walk down the street. I feel it when I eat and when I dance; I feel it when I'm with people, and I feel it when I'm not. I feel loneliness inside me, all of the time, but I also like to be alone and I don't really like other humans much either, so where the hell does that leave me?”