In philosophy if you aren’t moving at a snail’s pace you aren’t moving at all.
IRIS MURDOCHThe absolute yearning of one human body for another particular body and its indifference to substitutes is one of life’s major mysteries.
More Iris Murdoch Quotes
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Jealousy is perhaps the most involuntary of all strong emotions. It steals consciousness, it lies deeper than thought. It is always there, like a blackness in the eye, it discolours the world.
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Between saying and doing, many a pair of shoes is worn out.
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There is a gulf fixed between those who can sleep and those who cannot. It is one of the greatest divisions of the human race.
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For most of us, for almost all of us, truth can be attained, if at all, only in silence. It is in silence that the human spirit touches the divine.
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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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An experience is richest not talked of.
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Anything that consoles is fake.
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Guilt keeps people imprisoned in themselves.
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Of course reading and thinking are important but, my God, food is important too.
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That doesn’t sound like you, you ride every wave. There is one that will drown me
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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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Love is the Extremely difficult realization that something other than oneself is real.
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The bicycle is the most civilized conveyance known to man. Other forms of transport grow daily more nightmarish. Only the bicycle remains pure in heart.
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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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One of the secrets of a happy life is continous small treats.
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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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Love doesn’t think like that. All right, it’s blind as a bat- Bats have radar. Yours doesnt seem to be working.
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People have disappointed me and deceived me and let me down.
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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 live in a fantasy world, a world of illusion. The great task in life is to find reality says Iris Murdoch. But given the state of the world, is it wise?
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Her eyes, which refused to meet mine, had the defensive coldness of those who are determined to lose hope.
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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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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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The talk of lovers who have just declared their love is one of life’s most sweet delights. Each vies with the other in humility, in amazement at being so valued. The past is searched for the first signs and each one is in haste to declare all that he is so that no part of his being escapes the hallowing touch.
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Only the very greatest art invigorates without consoling.
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How different each death is, and yet it leads us into the self-same country, that country which we inhabit so rarely, where we see the worthlessness of what we have long pursued and will so soon return to pursuing.
IRIS MURDOCH