George Bernard Shaw
George Bernard Shaw
George Bernard Shaw, known at his insistence simply as Bernard Shaw, was an Irish playwright, critic and polemicist whose influence on Western theatre, culture and politics extended from the 1880s to his death and beyond. He wrote more than sixty plays, including major works such as Man and Superman, Pygmalionand Saint Joan. With a range incorporating both contemporary satire and historical allegory, Shaw became the leading dramatist of his generation, and in 1925 was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature...
NationalityIrish
ProfessionPlaywright
Date of Birth26 July 1856
CityDublin, Ireland
CountryIreland
Capitalism justified itself and was adopted as an economic principle on the express ground that it provides selfish motives for doing good, and that human beings will do nothing except for selfish motives
The stock actor is a stage calamity
If you say that God is good, great, blessed, wise or any such thing, the starting point is this : God is.
The statesman cannot govern without stability of belief, true or false.
There is only one belief that can rob death of its sting and the grave of its victory. For without that you cannot be born again.
It is one of the mysterious ways of Allah to make women troublesome when he makes them beautiful.
Give women the vote, and in five years there will be a crushing tax on bachelors.
Of all human struggles there is none so treacherous and remorseless as the struggle between the artist man and the mother woman.
Affection between adults - if they are really adult in mind and not merely grown up children - and creatures so relatively selfish and cruel as children necessarily are without knowing it or meaning it, cannot be called natural.
Absolute honesty is as absurd an abstraction as an absolute temperature or an absolute value.
You may well ask me why...I took the time to write [books]. I can only reply that I do not know. There was no why about it. I had to: that was all.
Never believe anything a writer tells you about himself. A man comes to believe in the end the lies he tells himself about himself.
It exasperated her to think that the dungeon in which she had languished for so many unhappy years had been unlocked all the time, and that the impulses she had so carefully struggled with and stifled for the sake of keeping well with society, were precisely those by which alone she could have come into any sort of sincere human contact.
If the wicked flourish and the fittest survive, Nature must be the god of rascals.