I have nobody in the world. I’ll kill myself. That’s best. Everyone will say, It’s for the best that she killed herself, she’s better off dead. I hate myself so much I could spend hours and hours just screaming with hatred and with the pain of it, oh the pain of it.
IRIS MURDOCHThe 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.
More Iris Murdoch Quotes
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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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A bad review is even less important than whether it is raining in Patagonia.
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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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What I needed with all my starved and silent soul was just that particular way of shouting back at the world.
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Emotions really exist at the bottom of the personality or at the top. in the middle they are acted. This is why all the world is a stage.
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I took a deep breath, however, and followed my rule of never speaking frankly to women in moments of emotion. No good ever comes of this.
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Of course reading and thinking are important but, my God, food is important too.
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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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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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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 prisoner, but the name of our cure is not freedom.
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Those who hope, by retiring from the world, to earn a holiday from human frailty, in themselves and others, are usually disappointed.
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Love is the extremely difficult realization that something other than oneself is real.
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Falling out of love is chiefly a matter of forgetting how charming someone is.
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There is no beyond, there is only here, the infinitely small, infinitely great and utterly demanding present.
IRIS MURDOCH