Each blade of grass has its spot on earth whence it draws its life, its strength; and so is man rooted to the land from which he draws his faith together with his life.

In the empty immensity of earth, sky, and water, there she was, incomprehensible, firing into a continent.

Every age is fed on illusions, lest men should renounce life early and the human race come to an end.

It is my belief no man ever understands quite his own artful dodges to escape from the grim shadow of self knowledge.

The reaches opened before us and closed behind, as if the forest had stepped leisurely across the water to bar the way for our return. We penetrated deeper and deeper into the heart of darkness.

A writing may be lost; a lie may be written; but what the eye has seen is truth and remains in the mind!

In some inland post feel the savagery, the utter savagery, had closed round him--all that mysterious life of the wilderness that stirs in the forest, in the jungles, in the hearts of wild men. There's no initiation either into such mysteries. He has to live in the midst of the incomprehensible, which is detestable. And it has a fascination, too, which goes to work upon him. The fascination of the abomination--you know. Imagine the growing regrets, the longing to escape, the powerless disgust, the surrender, the hate.