How rarely can happiness be really innocent and not triumphant, not an insult to the deprived.
Iris MurdochStarting 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.
Iris MurdochEating reveals the characteristic grossness of the human race and also the in-built failure of its satisfactions. We arrive eager, we stuff ourselves and we go away depressed and disappointed and probably feeling a bit queasy into the bargain. It's an image of the dรฉรงu in human existence. A greedy start and a stupefied finish. Waiters, who are constantly observing this cycle, must be the most disillusioned of men.
Iris Murdoch