1 It was like watching the last flickers of a life.
2 And this stillness of life did not in the least resemble a peace.
3 The man filled his life, occupied his thoughts, swayed his emotions.
4 In that way only it seemed to me I could keep my hold on the redeeming facts of life.
5 'You don't know how such a life tries a man like Kurtz,' cried Kurtz's last disciple.
6 I had been risking my life every day for the last fortnight to keep her out of the house.
7 She looked at us all as if her life had depended upon the unswerving steadiness of her glance.
8 That animal has a charmed life,' he said; 'but you can say this only of brutes in this country.
9 If such is the form of ultimate wisdom, then life is a greater riddle than some of us think it to be.
10 He was a seaman, but he was a wanderer, too, while most seamen lead, if one may so express it, a sedentary life.
11 I couldn't have felt more of lonely desolation somehow, had I been robbed of a belief or had missed my destiny in life.
12 No; I can't forget him, though I am not prepared to affirm the fellow was exactly worth the life we lost in getting to him.
13 There were no signs of life, but there was the ruined roof, the long mud wall peeping above the grass, with three little square window-holes, no two of the same size; all this brought within reach of my hand, as it were.
14 The brown current ran swiftly out of the heart of darkness, bearing us down towards the sea with twice the speed of our upward progress; and Kurtz's life was running swiftly too, ebbing, ebbing out of his heart into the sea of inexorable time.
15 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.
16 The great wall of vegetation, an exuberant and entangled mass of trunks, branches, leaves, boughs, festoons, motionless in the moonlight, was like a rioting invasion of soundless life, a rolling wave of plants, piled up, crested, ready to topple over the creek, to sweep every little man of us out of his little existence.
17 In the immutability of their surroundings the foreign shores, the foreign faces, the changing immensity of life, glide past, veiled not by a sense of mystery but by a slightly disdainful ignorance; for there is nothing mysterious to a seaman unless it be the sea itself, which is the mistress of his existence and as inscrutable as Destiny.
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