Her eyes, which refused to meet mine, had the defensive coldness of those who are determined to lose hope.
IRIS MURDOCHHer eyes, which refused to meet mine, had the defensive coldness of those who are determined to lose hope.
IRIS MURDOCHPeople have disappointed me and deceived me and let me down.
IRIS MURDOCHThe absolute yearning of one human body for another particular body and its indifference to substitutes is one of life’s major mysteries.
IRIS MURDOCHOnly the very greatest art invigorates without consoling.
IRIS MURDOCHTo lose somebody is to lose not only their person but all those modes and manifestations into which their person has flowed outwards; so that in losing a beloved one may find so many things, pictures, poems, melodies, places lost too: Dante, Avignon, a song of Shakespeare’s, the Cornish sea.
IRIS MURDOCHGuilt keeps people imprisoned in themselves.
IRIS MURDOCHAs 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.
IRIS MURDOCHThis sort of quiet gazing, which was like a feeding of the heart.
IRIS MURDOCHWriting is like getting married. One should never commit oneself until one is amazed at one’s luck.
IRIS MURDOCHI 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.
IRIS MURDOCHArt 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.
IRIS MURDOCHEvery 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.
IRIS MURDOCHWe 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?
IRIS MURDOCHI feel I’m at the end of something – everything is going to be different – and terrible.
IRIS MURDOCHPerhaps there was an intimacy which did not need words.
IRIS MURDOCHWhat I needed with all my starved and silent soul was just that particular way of shouting back at the world.
IRIS MURDOCH