Iris Murdock

...shall I simply sit by the fire and read Shakespeare, coming home to the place where magic does not shrink reality and turn it into tiny things to be the toys of fairies? There may be no saints but there is at least one proof that the light of self-satisfaction can illuminate the world... Can one change oneself? I doubt it. Or if there is any change it must be measured at the millionth part of a millimetre. When the poor ghosts are gone, what remains are ordinary obligations and ordinary interests. One can live quietly and try to do tiny little things and harm no one. I cannot think of any tiny good thing to do at the moment, but perhaps I will think of one tomorrow.