It was inconceivable how he had existed, how he had succeeded in getting so far, how he had managed to remain -- why he did not instantly disappear.
He has to live in the midst of the incomprehensible, which is also detestable.
His face was like the autumn sky, overcast one moment and bright the next.
Mistah Kurtz--he dead.
And suddenly I rejoiced in the great security of the sea as compared with the unrest of the land, in my choice of that untempted life presenting no disquieting problems, invested with an elementary moral beauty by the absolute straightforwardness of its appeal and by the singleness of its purpose.
The world is to the young.