Algernon Blackwood

Algernon Blackwood

Summary

Portrait of Algernon Blackwood Algernon Blackwood The Centaur — Chapter VI (1911)

I understood things about myself I've never understood before--and always funked rather;--especially that feeling of being out of touch with my kind, of finding no one in the world today who speaks my language quite--that, and the utter, God-forsaken loneliness it makes me suffer--"
"You always have been a lonely beggar really," I said, noting the hesitation that thus on the very threshold checked his enthusiasm, quenching the fire in those light-blue eyes.
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Portrait of Algernon Blackwood Algernon Blackwood The Centaur — Chapter VI (1911)

He was a survival of other life the modern mind has long since agreed to exile and deny. Humanity stared at him over a barrier, never dreaming of asking him in. Even had it done so he could not by the law of his being have accepted. Outcast myself in some small way, I understood his terrible loneliness, a soul without a country, visible and external country that is.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Algernon Blackwood Algernon Blackwood The Centaur — Chapter VI (1911)

That he knew the awful spiritual loneliness of living in a world whose tastes and interests were not his own, a world to which he was essentially foreign, and at whose hands he suffered continual rebuff and rejection. Advances from either side were mutually and necessarily repelled because oil and water cannot mix. Rejected, moreover, not merely by a family, tribe, or nation, but by a race and time--by the whole World of Today; an outcast and an alien, a desolate survival.
Source: Wikisource

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