'They had come together unavoidably, like two ships becalmed near each other, and lay rubbing sides at last. I must say that to me it appeared about the most dangerous thing in every way he had come upon so far. It came to him, and he accepted it with a sort of eager fatalism. I did not envy him his devotion to Kurtz, though. It seemed to have consumed all thought of self so completely, that even while he was talking to you, you forgot that it was he - the man before your eyes - who had gone through these things. I almost envied him the possession of this modest and clear flame. If the absolutely pure, uncalculating, unpractical spirit of adventure had ever ruled a human being, it ruled this bepatched youth. His need was to exist, and to move onwards at the greatest possible risk, and with a maximum of privation. He surely wanted nothing from the wilderness but space to breathe in and to push on through. Glamour urged him on, glamour kept him unscathed. I was seduced into something like admiration - like envy.

For months - for years - his life hadn't been worth a day's purchase and there he was gallantly, thoughtlessly alive, to all appearances indestructible solely by the virtue of his few years and of his unreflecting audacity. You take Kurtz away quick - quick - I tell you.' The glamour of youth enveloped his parti-coloured rags, his destitution, his loneliness, the essential desolation of his futile wanderings.

'I went a little farther,' he said, 'then still a little farther - till I had gone so far that I don't know how I'll ever get back.

It was inconceivable how he had existed, how he had succeeded in getting so far, how he had managed to remain - why he did not instantly disappear. His very existence was improbable, inexplicable, and altogether bewildering. There he was before me, in motley, as though he had absconded from a troupe of mimes, enthusiastic, fabulous.

Heart of darkness