We can only learn to love by loving.
IRIS MURDOCHEvery book is the wreck of a perfect idea.
More Iris Murdoch Quotes
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What a test that is: more than devotion, admiration, passion. If you long and long for someone’s company you love them.
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Art and psychoanalisis give shape and meaning to life and that’s why we adore them. However, life as it is lived has no shape nor meaning, and that’s what I am experiencing right now.
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Hegel says that Truth is a great word and the thing is greater still. With Dave we never seemed to get past the word.
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Perhaps when distant people on other planets pick up some wavelength of ours all they hear is a continuous scream.
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Every artist is an unhappy lover. And unhappy lovers want to tell their story.
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The most essential and fundamental aspect of culture is the study of literature, since this is an education in how to picture and understand human situations.
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I feel half faded away like some figure in the background of an old picture.
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I just enjoy translating, it’s like opening one’s mouth and hearing someone else’s voice emerge.
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Writing is like getting married. One should never commit oneself until one is amazed at one’s luck.
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Coffee, unless it is very good and made by somebody else, is pretty intolerable at any time.
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People from a planet without flowers would think we must be mad with joy the whole time to have such things about us.
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I don’t think I can marry, I’m not fit for it, I’m not real enough. That’s the trouble. I’m a puppet that’s realised what’s wrong with itself and it’s horrible. I’m propped up somewhere all alone, watching the real people go past. I’m propped up crying in a corner.
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A bad review is even less important than whether it is raining in Patagonia.
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One should go easy on smashing other people’s lies. Better to concentrate on one’s own.
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How huge it is, how empty, this great space for which I have been longing all my life. Still no letters.
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The absolute yearning of one human body for another particular body and its indifference to substitutes is one of life’s major mysteries.
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One of the secrets of a happy life is continous small treats.
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White magic is black magic. A less than perfect meddling in the spiritual world can breed monsters for other people, and demons used for good can hang around and make mischief afterwards.
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We are all the judges and the judged, victims of the casual malice and fantasy of others, and ready sources of fantasy and malice in our turn. And if we are sometimes accused of sins of which we are innocent, are there not also other sins of which we are guilty and of which the world knows nothing?
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We need a moral philosophy which can speak significantly of Freud and Marx and out of which aesthetic and political views can be generated. We need a moral philosophy in which the concept of love, so rarely mentioned now, can once again be made central.
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Every persisting marriage is based on fear’, said Peregrine. ‘Fear is fundamental, you dig down in human nature and what’s at the bottom? Mean spiteful cruel self-regarding fear, whether it makes you to put the foot in it or whether it makes you to cower.
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Between saying and doing, many a pair of shoes is worn out.
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As we live our precarious lives on the brink of the void, constantly coming closer to a state of nonbeing, we are all too often aware of our fragitlity.
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Bereavement is a darkness impenetrable to the imagination of the unbereaved.
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There is no beyond, there is only here, the infinitely small, infinitely great and utterly demanding present.
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But one must do something about the past. It doesn’t just cease to be. It goes on existing and affecting the present, and in new and different ways, as if in some other dimension it too were growing.
IRIS MURDOCH