Joseph Conrad
Joseph Conrad
Joseph Conradwas a Polish-British writer regarded as one of the greatest novelists to write in the English language. He joined the British merchant marine in 1878, and was granted British nationality in 1886. Though he did not speak English fluently until he was in his twenties, he was a master prose stylist who brought a non-English sensibility into English literature. He wrote stories and novels, many with a nautical setting, that depict trials of the human spirit in the midst...
NationalityPolish
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth3 December 1857
CountryPoland
Joy and sorrow in this world pass into each other, mingling their forms and their murmurs in the twilight of life as mysterious as an overshadowed ocean, while the dazzling brightness of supreme hopes lies far off, fascinating and still, on the distant edge of the horizon
We live as we dream - alone. While the dream disappears, the life continues painfully.
A writer without interest or sympathy for the foibles of his fellow man is not conceivable as a writer.
The conquest of the earth, which mostly means the taking it away from those who have a different complexion or slightly flatter noses than ourselves, is not a pretty thing when you look into it too much.
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.
The sea - this truth must be confessed - has no generosity. No display of manly qualities - courage, hardihood, endurance, faithfulness - has ever been known to touch its irresponsible consciousness of power.
The mind of man is capable of anything.
In the empty immensity of earth, sky, and water, there she was, incomprehensible, firing into a continent.
Yet, when one thinks of it, diplomacy without force is a but a rotten reed to lean upon.
The artist in his calling of interpreter creates because he must. He is so much of a voice that, for him, silence is like death
I take it that what all men are really after is some form or perhaps only some formula of peace.
That's why love is so inseparable from any talk about truth and death, because we know that love is fundamentally a death of an old self that was isolated and the emergence of a new self now entangled with another self, the self that you fall in love with.
One must explore deep and believe the incredible to find the new particles of truth floating in an ocean of insignificance.
What makes mankind tragic is not that they are the victims of nature, it is that they are conscious of it.