You know I hate, detest, and can’t bear a lie, not because I am straighter than the rest of us, but simply because it appals me. There is a taint of death, a flavour of mortality in lies – which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world – what I want to forget.
JOSEPH CONRADIt’s extraordinary how we go through life with eyes half shut, with dull ears, with dormant thoughts. Perhaps it’s just as well; and it may be that it is this very dullness that makes life to the incalculable majority so supportable and so welcome.
More Joseph Conrad Quotes
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A writing may be lost; a lie may be written; but what the eye has seen is truth and remains in the mind!
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You shall judge a man by his foes as well as by his friends.
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To have his path made clear for him is the aspiration of every human being in our beclouded and tempestuous existence.
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It is respectable to have no illusions, and safe, and profitable and dull.
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A task, any task, undertaken in an adventurous spirit acquires the merit of romance.
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To be busy with material affairs is the best preservative against reflection, fears, doubts, all these things which stand in the way of achievement. I suppose a fellow proposing to cut his throat would experience a sort of relief while occupied in stropping his razor carefully.
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God is for men, and religion for women.
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I have wrestled with death. It is the most unexciting contest you can imagine.
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I don’t like work but I like what is in work – the chance to find yourself. Your own reality – for yourself, not for others – which no other man can ever know.
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We live in the flicker — may it last as long as the old earth keeps rolling! But darkness was here yesterday.
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All ambitions are lawful except those which climb upward on the miseries or credulities of mankind.
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Any fool can carry on, but a wise man knows how to shorten sail in time.
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History repeats itself, but the special call of an art which has passed away is never reproduced. It is as utterly gone out of the world as the song of a destroyed wild bird.
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Everything belonged to him–but that was a trifle. The thing to know was what he belonged to, how many powers of darkness claimed him for their own.
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Any work that aspires, however humbly, to the condition of art should carry its justification in every line.
JOSEPH CONRAD