Iris Murdoch Quotes

He's only harming himself who's bent upon harming another

I'd been hurt, and in response I had acted violently, destroying a little of myself each time I did so.

I can hurt myself more than anyone else can, she told her sister. I can do it with my eyes closed.

What makes vanity so insufferable to us, is that it hurts our own.

No man ever did a designed injury to another, but at the same time he did a greater to himself.

You have so much pain inside yourself that you try & hurt yourself on the outside because you want help.

Vengeance is the act of turning anger in on yourself. On the surface it may be directed at someone else, but it is a surefire recipe for arresting emotional recovery.

I have always thought the suicide should bump off at least one swine before taking off for parts unknown.

It's true that Blake was emotionally disturbed - always has been - but he doesn't have murder in his heart. If he was going to do any damage to anything or anyone, it would be to himself.

I want to hit him, step away and watch him hurt. I want his heart.

It is human nature to hate the man whom you have hurt.

A narcissist is someone better looking than you are.

Do not envy the oppressor, and choose none of his ways.

I wanted to get punished, and I took unnecessary punishment when I was fighting.

If you see a man kiss me, I better be in my casket.

You're not the only one accused of hit and run. Tire tracks all across my back, well I can see you've had your fun.

He that is proud eats up himself: pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle.

The only person I have hurt is myself.

Who hasn't sharpened the edge of his soul? When, just as our eyes are opened, we see hate, and just after learning to walk, we are tripped, and just for wanting to love, we are hated, and for no more than touching, we are hurt, which of us hasn't started to arm himself, to make himself sharp, somehow, like a knife, to pay back the hurt?

A man's venom poisons himself more than his victims.

If you make your heart into a weapon, you end up using it on yourself.

The violence done us by others is often less painful than that which we do to ourselves.

What wretched doings come from the ardor of fame; the love of truth alone would never make one man attack another bitterly.

This violent rage that turned inward cannot be helped by drink.

Jealousy endlessly eats through my mind, and jealously endlessly makes me be unkind.