Originally posted by NaeBlis
I've read heart of darkness, it's a great book. Apocalypse Now is based off of it.
both books are pretty intense if you can sit through them. And yes they are both "Dark" Inferno deals with 9 layers of hell and Heart of Darkness is about imperialism in Africa and a persistent darkness.
one of my favorite excerpts from any book is (Sorry its so long dont have to read) from Heart of Darknes:
"Destiny. My destiny! Droll thing life is -- that mysterious arrangement
of merciless logic for a futile purpose. The most you can hope from it
is some knowledge of yourself -- that comes too late -- a crop of
unextinguishable regrets. I have wrestled with death. It is the most
unexciting contest you can imagine. It takes place in an impalpable
greyness, with nothing underfoot, with nothing around, without
spectators, without clamour, without glory, without the great desire of
victory, without the great fear of defeat, in a sickly atmosphere of
tepid scepticism, without much belief in your own right, and still less
in that of your adversary. If such is the form of ultimate wisdom, then
life is a greater riddle than some of us think it to be. I was within a
hair's-breadth of the last opportunity for pronouncement, and I found
with humiliation that probably I would have nothing to say. This is the
reason why I affirm that Kurtz was a remarkable man. He had something
to say. He said it. Since I had peeped over the edge myself, I
understand better the meaning of his stare, that could not see the
flame of the candle, but was wide enough to embrace the whole universe,
piercing enough to penetrate all the hearts that beat in the darkness.
He had summed up -- he had judged. "The horror!" He was a remarkable
man. After all, this was the expression of some sort of belief; it had
candour, it had conviction, it had a vibrating note of revolt in its
whisper, it had the appalling face of a glimpsed truth -- the strange
commingling of desire and hate. And it is not my own extremity I
remember best -- a vision of greyness without form filled with physical
pain, and a careless contempt for the evanescence of all things -- even
of this pain itself. No! It is his extremity that I seem to have lived
through. True, he had made that last stride, he had stepped over the
edge, while I had been permitted to draw back my hesitating foot. And
perhaps in this is the whole difference; perhaps all the wisdom, and
all truth, and all sincerity, are just compressed into that
inappreciable moment of time in which we step over the threshold of the
invisible. Perhaps! I like to think my summing-up would not have been a
word of careless contempt. Better his cry -- much better. It was an
affirmation, a moral victory paid for by innumerable deaths, by
abominable terrors, by abominable satisfactions. But it was a victory!
That is why I have remained loyal to Kurtz to the last, and even
beyond, when a long time after I heard once more, not his own voice,
but the echo of his magnificent eloquence throw to me from a soul as
translucently pure as a cliff of crystal."
you should also check out "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibrahn - i dont know how they'll work lyrically but you can get a good bit from T.S. Elliott's "The Wasteland"/"The Hollow Men"
http://www.cs.umbc.edu/~evans/hollow.html as well