Heart of Darkness

by Joseph Conrad

It was just robbery with violence, aggravated murder on a great scale, and men going at it blind—as

We live, as we dream—alone. . . ."

This alone, I was convinced, had driven him out to the edge of the forest, to the bush, towards the gleam of fires, the throb of drums, the drone of weird incantations; this alone had beguiled his unlawful soul beyond the bounds of permitted aspirations.

I have been very happy—very fortunate—very proud,' she went on. 'Too fortunate. Too happy for a little while. And now I am unhappy for—for life.'