The Plague Suffering Quotes

Still, if things had gone thus far and no farther, force of habit would doubtless have gained the day, as usual. But other members of our community, not all menials or poor people, were to follow the path down which M. Michel had led the way. And it was then that fear, and with fear serious reflection, began. (1.3.1)

He merely replied, without looking at the police officer, that "a secret grief" described it well enough. The inspector then asked him peremptorily if he intended to "have another go at it." Showing more animation, Cottard said certainly not, his one wish was to be left in peace" (1.4.30)

"Allow me to point out, my man," the police officer rejoined with asperity, "That just now it’s you who’re troubling the peace of others." (1.4.31)

A tranquility so casual and thoughtless seemed almost effortlessly to give the lie to those old pictures of the plague: Chinese towns cluttered up with victims silent in their agony; the convicts at Marseille piling rotten corpses into pits; the building of the Great Wall in Provence to fend off the furious plague-wind; the damp, putrefying pallets stuck to the mud floor at the Constantinople lazar-house, where the patients were hauled up from their beds with hooks; the carnival of masked doctors at the Black Death; […] nights and days filled always, everywhere, with the eternal cry of human pain. No, all these horrors were not near enough as yet even to ruffle the equanimity of that spring afternoon. (1.5.6)

Dr. Rieux called to mind the plague-fires of which Lucretius tells, which the Athenians kindled on the seashore. The dead were brought there after nightfall, but there was not room enough, and the living fought one another with torches for a space where to lay those who had been dear to them; for they had rather engage in bloody conflicts than abandon their dead to the waves. (1.5.6)

Followed by scowls and protestations, Rieux left the committee-room. Some minutes later, as he was driving down a back street redolent of fried fish and urine, a woman screaming in agony, her groin dripping blood, stretched out her arms toward him. (1.7.35)

On the day after the committee meeting the fever notched another small advance. It even found its way into papers, but discreetly; only a few brief references to it were made. One the following day, however, Rieux observed that small official notices had been just put up about the town, though in places where they would not attract much attention. (1.8.1)

He paused; with a machine-gun rattle from its exhaust the "deratization" van was clattering by. (1.8.38)

Throughout the day the doctor was conscious that the slightly dazed feeling that came over him whenever he thought about the plague was growing more pronounced. Finally he realized that he was afraid! On two occasions he entered crowded cafes. Like Cottard he felt a need for friendly contacts, human warmth. A stupid instinct, Rieux told himself; still, it served to remind him that he’d promised to visit the traveling salesman. (1.8.46)

Nightfall, with its deep, remote baying of unseen ships, the rumor rising from the sea, and the happy tumult of the crowd—that first hour of darkness which in the past had always had a special charm for Rieux—seemed today charged with menace, because of all he knew. (1.8.52)

Hitherto his patients had helped to lighten his task; they gladly put themselves in his hands. For the first time the doctor felt they were keeping aloof, wrapping themselves up in their malady with a sort of bemused hostility. (1.8.67)

He had examined the old man and now was sitting in the middle of the dingy little dining-room. Yes, despite what he had said, he was afraid. He knew that in this suburb alone eight or ten unhappy people, cowering over their buboes, would be awaiting his visit the next morning. (1.8.75)

For most of them it would mean going to the hospital, and he knew how poor people feel about hospitals. "I don’t want them trying their experiments on him," had said the wife of one of his patients. But he wouldn’t be experimented on, he would die, and that was all." (1.8.75)

There was a serene blue sky flooded with golden light each morning, with sometimes a drone of planes in the rising heat—all seemed well with the world. And yet within four days the fever had made four startling strides: sixteen deaths, twenty-four, twenty-eight, and thirty-two. (1.8.88)

The local population, who so far had made a point of masking their anxiety by facetious comments, now seemed tongue-tied and went their ways with gloomy faces. (1.8.88)

This misfortune which had come from outside and befallen a whole town did more than inflict on us an unmerited distress with which we might well be indignant. It also incited us to create our own suffering and thus to accept frustration as a natural state. This was one of the tricks the pestilence had of diverting attention and confounding issues. (2.1. 13)

Probably Jeanne had suffered. And yet she’d stayed; of course one may often suffer a long time without knowing it. Thus years went by. Then, on day, she left him. Naturally she hadn’t gone alone. "I was very fond of you, but now I’m so tired. I’m not happy to go, but one needn’t be happy to make another start." That, more or less, was what she’d said in her letter. (2.2.16)

To some the sermon simply brought home the fact that they had been sentenced, for an unknown crime, to an indeterminate period of punishment. (2.4.1)

"Since the order of the world is shaped by death, mightn’t it be better for God if we refuse to believe in Him and struggle with all our might against death, without raising our eyes toward the heaven where He sits in silence."

Tarrou nodded.

"Yes. But your victories will never be lasting; that’s all."

Rieux’s face darkened.

"Yes, I know that. But it’s no reason for giving up the struggle."

"No reason, I agree. Only, I now can picture what this plague must mean for you."

"Yes. A never ending defeat."…

"Who taught you all this, doctor?"

The reply came promptly:

"Suffering." (2.7.66-75)

From now on, indeed, poverty showed itself stronger stimulus than fear. (3.1.16)