There is nothing more enticing, disenchanting, and enslaving than the life at sea.

I think it had whispered to him things about himself which he did not know, things of which he had no conception till he took counsel with this great solitude - and the whisper had proved irresistibly fascinating. It echoed loudly within him because he was hollow at the core.

The dreams of men, the seed of commonwealth, the germs of empires.

A writer without interest or sympathy for the foibles of his fellow man is not conceivable as a writer.

And this also," said Marlow suddenly, "has been one of the dark places of the earth.

Ah! These commercial interests -- spoiling the finest life under the sun. Why must the sea be used for trade -- and for war as well?...It would have been so much nicer just to sail about, with here and there a port and a bit of land to stretch one's legs on, buy a few books and get a change of cooking for a while.

One can't live with one's finger everlastingly on one's pulse.