Heart of Darkness Discussion #5
“The point was in [Kurtz] being a gifted creature, and that of all his gifts the one that stood
out preeminently, that carried with it a sense of real presence, was his ability to talk, his
words—the gift of expression, the bewildering, the illuminating, the most exalted and the
most contemptible, the pulsating stream of light, or the deceitful flow from the heart of an
impenetrable darkness” (71).
“… my sorrow [at not getting to meet Kurtz] had a startling extravagance of emotion, even
such as I had noticed in the howling sorrow of these savages in the bush” (71).
“They—the women I mean—are out of it—should be out of it. We must help them to stay in
that beautiful world of their own, lest ours gets worse. Oh, she had to be out of it. You
should have heard the disinterred body of Mr. Kurtz saying, ‘My Intended.’ You would have
perceived directly then how completely she was out of it” (72).
‘My Intended, my ivory, my station, my river, my-----‘ everything belonged to him. It made
me hold my breath in expectation of hearing the wilderness burst into a prodigious peal of
laughter that would shake the fixed stars in their places. Everything belonged to him—but
that was a trifle. The thing was to know what he belonged to, how many powers of darkness
claimed him for their own. That was the reflection that made you creepy all over” (73).
“’Exterminate all the brutes!’” (75).
“I missed my late helmsman awfully—I missed him even while his body was still lying in the
pilot-house. Perhaps you will think it passing strange this regret for a savage who was no
more account than a grain of sand in a black Sahara. Well, don’t you see, he had done
something, he had steered; for months I had him at my back—a help—an instrument. It was
a kind of partnership. He steered for me—I had to look after him, I worried about his
deficiencies, and thus a subtle bond had been created, of which I only became aware when it
was suddenly broken. And the intimate profundity of that look he gave me when he
received his hurt remains to this day in my memory—like a claim of distant kinship
affirmed in a supreme moment” (76).
“These round knobs were not ornamental but symbolic … They only showed that Mr. Kurtz
lacked restraint in the gratification of his various lusts, that there was something wanting in
him … the wilderness had found him out early, and had taken on him a terrible vengeance
for the fantastic invasion … It echoed loudly within him because he was hollow at the core
…” (86-87).
“Curious, this feeling that came over me that such details would be more intolerable than
those heads drying on the stakes under Mr. Kurtz’s windows. After all, that was only a
savage sight, while I seemed at one bound to have been transported into some lightless
region of subtle horrors, where pure, uncomplicated savagery was a positive relief, being
something that had a right to exist—obviously—in the sunshine” (87 – 88).
“She was savage and superb, wild-eyed and magnificent; there was something ominous and
stately in her deliberate progress. And in the hush that had fallen suddenly upon the whole
sorrowful land, the immense wilderness, the colossal body of the fecund and mysterious life
seemed to look at her, pensive, as though it had been looking at the image of its own
tenebrous and passionate soul … Her face had a tragic and fierce aspect of wild sorrow and
of dumb pain mingled with the fear of some struggling, half-shaped resolve. She stood
looking at us without a stir, and like the wilderness itself, with an air of brooding over an
inscrutable purpose” (91 – 92).
“What made this emotion so overpowering was—how shall I define it?—the moral shock I
received, as if something altogether monstrous, intolerable to thought and odious to the
soul, had been thrust upon me unexpectedly” (97).
“The knitting old woman with the cat obtruded herself upon my memory as most improper
person to be sitting at the other end of such an affair” (97 – 98).
“… I had to deal with a being whom I could not appeal in the name of anything high or low …
He had kicked himself loose of the earth. … But his soul was mad. Being alone in the
wilderness, it had looked within itself, and, by heavens! I tell you, it had gone mad” (100).
“… they shouted periodically together strings of amazing words that resembled no sounds
of human language; and the deep murmurs of the crowd, interrupted suddenly, were like
the responses of some satanic litany” (101).
“It is strange how I accepted this unforeseen partnership, this choice of nightmares forced
upon me in the tenebrous land invaded by these mean and greedy phantoms” (102 – 103).
“’The horror! The horror!’” (105).
“My destiny! Droll thing life is—that mysterious arrangement of merciless logic for a futile
purpose. The most you can hope from it is some knowledge of yourself—that comes too
late—a crop of unextinguishable regrets” (106).
“She came forward, all in black, with a pale head, floating towards me in the dusk … She had
a mature capacity for fidelity, for belief, for suffering. The room seemed to have grown
darker, as if all the sad light of the cloudy evening had taken refuge on her forehead. This
fair hair, this pale visage, this pure brow, seemed surrounded by an ashy halo from which
the dark eyes looked out at me. Their glance was guileless, profound, confident, and
trustful” (112).
“’The last word he pronounced was—your name’” (116).