Серце темряви

           Thelongreachesthatwerelikeoneandthesamereach,monotonousbendsthatwereexactlyalike,slippedpastthesteamerwiththeirmultitudeofseculartreeslookingpatientlyafterthisgrimyfragmentofanotherworld,theforerunnerofchange,ofconquest,oftrade,ofmassacres,ofblessings.Ilookedahead—piloting.‘Closetheshutter,’saidKurtzsuddenlyoneday;‘Ican’tbeartolookatthis.’Ididso.Therewasasilence.‘Oh,butIwillwringyourheartyet!’hecriedattheinvisiblewilderness.

           "Webrokedown—asIhadexpected—andhadtolieupforrepairsattheheadofanisland.ThisdelaywasthefirstthingthatshookKurtz’sconfidence.Onemorninghegavemeapacketofpapersandaphotograph—thelottiedtogetherwithashoe-string.‘Keepthisforme,’hesaid.‘Thisnoxiousfool’(meaningthemanager)‘iscapableofpryingintomyboxeswhenIamnotlooking.’IntheafternoonIsawhim.Hewaslyingonhisbackwithclosedeyes,andIwithdrewquietly,butIheardhimmutter,‘Liverightly,die,die...’Ilistened.Therewasnothingmore.Washerehearsingsomespeechinhissleep,orwasitafragmentofaphrasefromsomenewspaperarticle?Hehadbeenwritingforthepapersandmeanttodosoagain,‘forthefurtheringofmyideas.It’saduty.’

           "Hiswasanimpenetrabledarkness.Ilookedathimasyoupeerdownatamanwhoislyingatthebottomofaprecipicewherethesunnevershines.