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.
IRIS MURDOCHReading and writing and the preservation of language and its forms and the kind of eloquence and the kind of beauty which the language is capable of is terribly important to the human beings because this is connected to thought.
More Iris Murdoch Quotes
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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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Jealousy is the most dreadfully involuntary of all sins.
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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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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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Only the very greatest art invigorates without consoling.
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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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Hegel says that Truth is a great word and the thing is greater still. With Dave we never seemed to get past the word.
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Reading and writing and the preservation of language and its forms and the kind of eloquence and the kind of beauty which the language is capable of is terribly important to the human beings because this is connected to thought.
IRIS MURDOCH -
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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Perhaps when distant people on other planets pick up some wavelength of ours all they hear is a continuous scream.
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Coffee, unless it is very good and made by somebody else, is pretty intolerable at any time.
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Love is the Extremely difficult realization that something other than oneself is real.
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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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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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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?
IRIS MURDOCH