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.
IRIS MURDOCHHowever life, unlike art, has an irritating way of bumping and limping on, undoing conversions, casting doubt on solutions, and generally illustrating the impossibility of living happily or virtuously ever after.
More Iris Murdoch Quotes
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There is no substitute for the comfort supplied by the utterly taken-for-granted relationship.
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Between saying and doing, many a pair of shoes is worn out.
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The theatre is certainly a place for learning about the brevity of human glory: oh all those wonderful glittering absolutely vanished pantomime! Now I shall abjure magic and become a hermit : put myself in a situation where I can honestly say that I have nothing else to do but to learn to be good.
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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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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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Only the very greatest art invigorates without consoling.
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Our actions are like ships which we may watch set out to sea, and not know when or with what cargo they will return to port.
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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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Bereavement is a darkness impenetrable to the imagination of the unbereaved.
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Falling out of love is chiefly a matter of forgetting how charming someone is.
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People have disappointed me and deceived me and let me down.
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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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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.
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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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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.
IRIS MURDOCH