1,162 Quotes by Iris Murdoch

Bereavement is my occupation and it absorbs me completely. You want me to touch you, to look at you with sympathy. I cannot.

You can go now. There's nothing more to learn. I am poured out and empty. Good night.

He had for many years now been spared the demons, though he was constantly aware of their continued presence. He could hear them, as it were, moving behind the wall. They belonged to him and would doubtless go with him to the grave. His mind too, like David's, ran irresistibly to the horror.

Come in, defeat, come in and make yourself at home.

Oh God, that conversation last night or this morning or whenever that devil-ridden scrap of nightmare had been. How could two rational beings go on and on simply saying the same awful things to each other week after week, month after month?

Ordinary consciousness simply becomes pain.

You can't go through the looking-glass without cutting yourself.

. . . darkness was staining all the intricate channels of what had once seemed so perfect.

Only the house was still desolate and the day had a livid ruined atmosphere, time had been damaged in some deep way, like on a day of bereavement or frightful national disaster.