Connie’s Reviews > Of Human Bondage > Status Update
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Connie
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"His life was only tolerable because he could look forward to something better. If he had no hope he would have no fear."
— Dec 17, 2025 08:41AM
Connie
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"You didn’t love me, and it was absurd to blame you for that. I thought I could make you love me, but I know now that was impossible. I don’t know what it is that makes someone love you, but whatever it is, it’s the only thing that matters, and if it isn’t there you won’t create it by kindness, or generosity, or anything of that sort."
— Dec 09, 2025 03:15PM
Connie
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"She took the vice and misery and cruelty of the world as a matter of course; she found nothing to praise or blame in human actions: she accepted. She had a certain grim humour."
— Dec 09, 2025 03:03PM
Connie
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"The only way to live is to forget that you’re going to die."
— Nov 04, 2025 01:35PM
Connie
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“There’s always one who loves and one who lets himself be loved.”
— Oct 04, 2025 01:09PM
Connie
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“I’m a failure,” he murmured, “I’m unfit for the brutality of the struggle of life. All I can do is to stand aside and let the vulgar throng hustle by in their pursuit of the good things.”
He gave you the impression that to fail was a more delicate, a more exquisite thing, than to succeed. He insinuated that his aloofness was due to distaste for all that was common and low. He talked beautifully of Plato.
— Oct 04, 2025 12:33PM
He gave you the impression that to fail was a more delicate, a more exquisite thing, than to succeed. He insinuated that his aloofness was due to distaste for all that was common and low. He talked beautifully of Plato.
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Dec 17, 2025 08:50AM
"The old man clung to life. Yet he believed implicitly all that his religion taught him. He had no doubt in the immortality of the soul, and he felt that he had conducted himself well enough, according to his capacities, to make it very likely that he would go to heaven. In his long career to how many dying persons must he have administered the consolations of religion! Perhaps he was like the doctor who could get no benefit from his own prescriptions. Philip was puzzled and shocked by that eager cleaving to the earth. He wondered what nameless horror was at the back of the old man’s mind. He would have liked to probe into his soul so that he might see in its nakedness the dreadful dismay of the unknown which he suspected."
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"Philip thought of the countless millions to whom life is no more than unending labour, neither beautiful nor ugly, but just to be accepted in the same spirit as one accepts the changes of the seasons. Fury seized him because it all seemed useless. He could not reconcile himself to the belief that life had no meaning and yet everything he saw, all his thoughts, added to the force of his conviction. But though fury seized him it was a joyful fury. Life was not so horrible if it was meaningless, and he faced it with a strange sense of power."

