But the quartz has the worst of
it, in both instances.
VIOLET. Might we look at that piece of broken quartz again, with
the weak little film across it? it seems such a strange lovely
thing, like the self-sacrifice of a human being.
L. The self-sacrifice of a human being is not a lovely thing,
Violet. It is often a necessary and noble thing; but no form nor
degree of suicide can be ever lovely.
VIOLET. But self-sacrifice is not suicide!
L. What is it then?
VIOLET. Giving up one's self for another.
L. Well; and what do you mean by "giving up one's self"?
VIOLET. Giving up one's tastes, one's feelings, one's time, one's
happiness, and so on, to make others happy.
L. I hope you will never marry anybody, Violet, who expects you to
make him happy in that way.
VIOLET (hesitating). In what way?
L. By giving up your tastes, and sacrificing your feelings, and
happiness.
VIOLET. No, no, I don't mean that; but you know, for other people,
one must.
L. For people who don't love you, and whom you know nothing about?
Be it so; but how does this "giving up" differ from suicide then?
VIOLET. Why, giving up one's pleasures is not killing one's self?
L. Giving up wrong pleasure is not; neither is it self-sacrifice,
but self-culture.
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