Love and regret go hand in hand in this world of changes swifter than the shifting of the clouds reflected in the mirror of the sea.
The commonest sort of fortitude prevents us from becoming criminals in a legal sense; it is from weakness unknown, but perhaps suspected, as in some parts of the world you suspect a deadly snake in every bush – from weakness that may lie hidden, watched or unwatched, prayed against or manfully scorned, repressed or maybe ignored more than half a lifetime, not one of us is safe.
O youth! The strength of it, the faith of it, the imagination of it! To me she was not an old rattle-trap carting about the world a lot of coal for a freight – to me she was the endeavour, the test, the trial of life. I think of her with pleasure, with affection, with regret – as you would think of someone dead you have loved. I shall never forget her... Pass the bottle.
The simple old sailor, with his talk of chains and purchases, made me forget the jungle and the pilgrims in a delicious sensation of having come upon something unmistakably real. Such a book being there was wonderful enough; but still more astounding were the notes penciled in the margin, and plainly referring to the text. I couldn’t believe my eyes! They were in cipher! Yes, it looked like cipher.
Morituri te salutant!
They grabbed what they could get for the sake of what was to be got. It was just robbery with violence, aggravated murder on a great scale, and men going at it blind – as is very proper for those who tackle a darkness. The conquest of the earth, which mostly means the taking it away from those who have a different complexion or slightly flatter noses than ourselves, is not a pretty thing when you look into it too much.
And in this case his great practice in it was assisted by hate, which, like love, has an eloquence of its own.
And for a moment it seemed to me as if I also were buried in a vast grave full of unspeakable secrets.
I was anxious to deal with this shadow by myself alone – and to this day I don’t know why I was so jealous of sharing with any one the peculiar blackness of that experience.
I don’t like work – no man does – but I like what is in the work – the chance to find yourself.
The fascination of the abomination – you know.
I saw him open his mouth wide – it gave him a weirdly voracious aspect, as though he had wanted to swallow all the air, all the earth, all the men before him.
Man, we know, cannot live by bread alone but hang me if I don’t believe that some women could live by love alone.
One rule holds good of most young men – whether rich or poor. They never have money for the necessaries of life, but they have always money to spare for their caprices – an anomaly which finds its explanation in their youth and in the almost frantic eagerness with which youth grasps at pleasure.
We wander in our thousands over the face of the earth, the illustrious and the obscure, earning beyond the seas our fame, our money, only a crust of bread; but it seems to me that for each of us going home must be like going to render an account.
The day was ending in a serenity of still and exquisite brilliance. The water shone pacifically; the sky, without a speck, was a benign immensity of unstained light; the very mist on the Essex marshes was like a gauzy and radiant fabric, hung from the wooded rises inland, and draping the low shores in diaphanous folds. Only the gloom to the west, brooding over the upper reaches, became more sombre every minute, as if angered by the approach of the sun.
The word ‘ivory’ rang in the air, was whispered, was sighed. You would think they were praying to it.
I was glad of it,” he repeated, emphatically. “You may be surprised at it, but then you haven’t gone through the experience I’ve had of her. I can tell you, it was something to remember. Of course, I got off scot free myself – as you can see. She did her best to break up my pluck for me tho’. She jolly near drove as fine a fellow as ever lived into a madhouse. What do you say to that – eh?
Men who come out here should have no entrails.
I have attempted to tear asunder the veil you have hung to conceal from us the pain of life, and I have been wounded by the mystery... Oedipus, half way to finding the word of the enigma, young Faust, regretting already the simple life, the life of the heart, I come back to you repentant, reconciled, O gentle deceiver!