Love is the Extremely difficult realization that something other than oneself is real.
IRIS MURDOCHPeople have obsessions and fears and passions which they don’t admit to. I think every character is interesting and has extremes. It’s the novelist privilege to see how odd everyone is.
More Iris Murdoch Quotes
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Only take someone’s hand in a certain way, even look into their eyes in a certain way, and the world is changed forever.
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I feel I’m at the end of something – everything is going to be different – and terrible.
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Starting a novel is opening a door on a misty landscape; you can still see very little but you can smell the earth and feel the wind blowing.
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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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Of course reading and thinking are important but, my God, food is important too.
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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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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.
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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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People have disappointed me and deceived me and let me down.
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There is no substitute for the comfort supplied by the utterly taken-for-granted relationship.
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We can only learn to love by loving.
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Jealousy is the most dreadfully involuntary of all sins.
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A bad review is even less important than whether it is raining in Patagonia.
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Violence is born of the desire to escape oneself.
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Of course this chattering diary is a facade, the literary equivalent of the everyday smiling face which hides the inward ravages of jealousy, remorse, fear and the consciousness of irretrievable moral failure. Yet such pretenses are not only consolations but may even be productive of a little ersatz courage.
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Time, like the sea, unties all knots.
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What an extraordinary satisfaction there is in cleaning things! (Does the satisfaction depend on ownership? I suspect so.
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This sort of quiet gazing, which was like a feeding of the heart.
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We defend ourselves with descriptions and tame the world by generalizing.
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I’ve been so unhappy for years, so unhappy, I don’t understand how a human being can be so unhappy all the time and still be alive.
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Only the very greatest art invigorates without consoling.
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Love is the extremely difficult realization that something other than oneself is real.
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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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Let us not waste love, it is rare enough.
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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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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.
IRIS MURDOCH