The Autobiography of Bertrand Russell (1967)
The Prologue to Bertrand Russell’s Autobiography
What I Have Lived For
Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, have governed my
life: the longing for love, the search for knowledge, and unbearable
pity for the suffering of mankind. These passions, like great winds,
have blown me hither and thither, in a wayward course, over a great
ocean of anguish, reaching to the very verge of despair.
I have sought love, first, because it brings ecstasy – ecstasy so
great that I would often have sacrificed all the rest of life for a few
hours of this joy. I have sought it, next, because it relieves
loneliness–that terrible loneliness in which one shivering consciousness
looks over the rim of the world into the cold unfathomable lifeless
abyss. I have sought it finally, because in the union of love I have
seen, in a mystic miniature, the prefiguring vision of the heaven that
saints and poets have imagined. This is what I sought, and though it
might seem too good for human life, this is what–at last–I have found.
With equal passion I have sought knowledge. I have wished to
understand the hearts of men. I have wished to know why the stars shine.
And I have tried to apprehend the Pythagorean power by which number
holds sway above the flux. A little of this, but not much, I have
achieved.
Love and knowledge, so far as they were possible, led upward toward
the heavens. But always pity brought me back to earth. Echoes of cries
of pain reverberate in my heart. Children in famine, victims tortured by
oppressors, helpless old people a burden to their sons, and the whole
world of loneliness, poverty, and pain make a mockery of what human life
should be. I long to alleviate this evil, but I cannot, and I too
suffer.
This has been my life. I have found it worth living, and would gladly live it again if the chance were offered me.
The Prologue to Bertrand Russell’s Autobiography
What I Have Lived For
Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, have governed my
life: the longing for love, the search for knowledge, and unbearable
pity for the suffering of mankind. These passions, like great winds,
have blown me hither and thither, in a wayward course, over a great
ocean of anguish, reaching to the very verge of despair.
I have sought love, first, because it brings ecstasy – ecstasy so
great that I would often have sacrificed all the rest of life for a few
hours of this joy. I have sought it, next, because it relieves
loneliness–that terrible loneliness in which one shivering consciousness
looks over the rim of the world into the cold unfathomable lifeless
abyss. I have sought it finally, because in the union of love I have
seen, in a mystic miniature, the prefiguring vision of the heaven that
saints and poets have imagined. This is what I sought, and though it
might seem too good for human life, this is what–at last–I have found.
With equal passion I have sought knowledge. I have wished to
understand the hearts of men. I have wished to know why the stars shine.
And I have tried to apprehend the Pythagorean power by which number
holds sway above the flux. A little of this, but not much, I have
achieved.
Love and knowledge, so far as they were possible, led upward toward
the heavens. But always pity brought me back to earth. Echoes of cries
of pain reverberate in my heart. Children in famine, victims tortured by
oppressors, helpless old people a burden to their sons, and the whole
world of loneliness, poverty, and pain make a mockery of what human life
should be. I long to alleviate this evil, but I cannot, and I too
suffer.
This has been my life. I have found it worth living, and would gladly live it again if the chance were offered me.