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There Is A Point Of No Return, Unremarked At The Time, In Most Lives.
-Graham Greene
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There Is A Point

Graham Greene
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There Is A Point Of No Return, Unremarked At The Time, In Most Lives.

Understanding the Quote: "there is a point of no return, unremarked at the time, in..."

This quote by Graham Greene reflects deeply on the theme of return. It connects to the universal human journey of purpose, motivation, and reflection. Often categorized under Return, the quote offers insight, emotional clarity, and intellectual inspiration to readers worldwide.

Whether you’re a student exploring new ideas, a leader trying to motivate your team, or someone seeking direction in life — this quote provides value. It resonates because it’s more than words — it’s a bridge between experience and wisdom. It shows how Graham Greene interprets life's core challenges and triumphs.

Lessons From the Quote

This quote teaches resilience and focus. It reminds readers that no matter where they stand in life, reflection and self-awareness lead to growth. Each word has meaning, and when studied, it becomes clear how impactful thoughtful language can be.

About Graham Greene

Graham Greene is celebrated for insightful thoughts on return and motivation. Their legacy lives on through writings that guide, comfort, and inspire. Discover more on their profile page.

Actionable Takeaways

  • Reflect on how this quote applies to your current life path.
  • Share the message with someone who needs inspiration.
  • Write your thoughts on this quote in a journal or blog post.
  • Use it as a daily affirmation or reminder.

Closing Thoughts

Quotes like this endure because they capture universal truths. They comfort us in solitude and empower us in groups. Carry this quote forward — live by its wisdom, share its message, and keep its essence alive.

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Return
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Great Inspirational
Mind
I Wrote At The Start That This Was A Record Of Hate, And Walking There Beside Henry Towards The Evening Glass Of Beer, I Found The One Prayer That Seemed To Serve The Winter Mood: O God, You've Done Enough, You've Robbed Me Of Enough, I'm Too Tired And Old To Learn To Love, Leave Me Alone Forever.
Prayer
Hate
Tired
Yesterday I Went Home With Him And We Did The Usual Things. I Haven't The Nerve To Put Them Down, But I'd Like To, Because Now When I'm Writing It's Already Tomorrow And I'm Afraid Of Getting To The End Of Yesterday. As Long As I Go On Writing, Yesterday Is Today And We Are Still Together
Home
Writing
Yesterday
You Must Promise Me. You Can't Desire The End Without Desiring The Means.' Ah, But One Can, He Thought, One Can: One Can Desire The Peace Of Victory Without Desiring The Ravaged Towns.
Mean
Promise
Victory
You Cannot Control What You Love--you Watch It Driving Recklessly Towards The Broken Bridge, The Torn-up Track, The Horror Of Seventy Years Ahead.
Love You
Years
Bridges
Our Worst Enemies Here Are Not The Ignorant And Simple, However Cruel; Our Worst Enemies Are The Intelligent And Corrupt
Intelligent
Simple
Worst Enemy
I Can Never Think Of You As A Friend. You Can Do Without A Friend.
Thinking
Think Of You
I Can
When I Began To Write Our Story Down, I Thought I Was Writing A Record Of Hate, But Somehow The Hate Has Got Mislaid And All I Know Is That In Spite Of Her Mistakes And Her Unreliability, She Was Better Than Most. It's Just As Well That One Of Us Should Believe In Her: She Never Did In Herself.
Hate
Mistake
Believe
Death Never Mattered At Those Times - In The Early Days I Even Used To Pray For It: The Shattering Annihilation That Would Prevent For Ever The Getting Up, The Putting On Of Clothes, The Wathchign Her Torch Trail Across To The Opposite Side Of The Common Like The Tail-light Of A Low Car Driving Away.
Light
Opposites
Clothes
A Brain Is Only Capable Of What It Could Conceive, Andit Couldnt Concieve What It Hasnt Experienced
Brain
Capable
Sometimes I See Myself Reflected Too Closely In Other Men For Comfort, And Then I Have An Enormous Wish To Believe In The Saints, In Heroic Virtue.
Believe
Men
Wish
My Passion For Sarah Had Killed Simple Lust Forever. Never Again Would I Be Able To Enjoy A Woman Without Love.
Passion
Simple
Forever
Like Some Wines Our Love Could Neither Mature Nor Travel.
Break Up
Breakup
Wine
One Forgets So Quickly One's Own Youth.
Youth
Forget
How Often The Priest Had Heard The Same Confession--man Was So Limited: He Hadn't Even The Ingenuity To Invent A New Vice: The Animals Knew As Much. It Was For This World That Christ Had Died: The More Evil You Saw And Heard About You, The Greater The Glory Lay Around The Death; It Was Too Easy To Die For What Was Good Or Beautiful, For Home Or Children Or Civilization--it Needed A God To Die For The Half-hearted And The Corrupt.
Beautiful
Children
Home
Death Was Far More Certain Than God.
Certain
Insecurity Twists Meanings And Poisons Trust. In A Closely Beleaguered City Every Sentry Is A Potential Traitor.
Trust
Cities
Insecurity
Hope Was An Instinct Only The Reasoning Human Mind Could Kill. An Animal Never Knew Despair.
Animal
Mind
Despair
A Murderer Is Regarded By The Conventional World As Something Almost Monstrous, But A Murderer To Himself Is Only An Ordinary Man. It Is Only If The Murderer Is A Good Man That He Can Be Regarded As Monstrous.
Men
Good Man
Ordinary
She Had Lost All Our Memories For Ever, And It Was As Though By Dying She Had Robbed Me Of Part Of Myself. I Was Losing My Individuality. It Was The First Stage Of My Own Death, The Memories Dropping Off Like Gangrened Limbs.
Memories
Individuality
Dying
As Long As Nothing Happens Anything Is Possible.
Long
Happens
Anything Is Possible
Pity Is Cruel. Pity Destroys.
Pity
Sociology
There Was Always Another Side To A Joke, The Side Of The Victim.
Sides
Victim
Jokes
Childhood Was The Germ Of All Mistrust. You Were Cruelly Joked Upon And Then You Cruelly Joked. You Lost The Remembrance Of Pain Through Inflicting It.
Pain
Remembrance
Childhood
I Don't Care A Damn About Men Who Are Loyal To The People Who Pay Them, To Organizations...i Don't Think Even My Country Means All That Much. There Are Many Countries In Our Blood, Aren't There, But Only One Person. Would The World Be In The Mess It Is If We Were Loyal To Love And Not To Countries?
Country
Mean
Men
Lies Had Deserted Me, And I Felt As Lonely As Though They Had Been My Only Friends.
Lonely
Lying
Deserted
Pain Is Easy To Write. In Pain We're All Happily Individual. But What Can One Write About Happiness?
Pain
Writing
Easy
When I Replied That I Loved Her Too In That Way, I Was The Liar, Not She, For I Never Lose The Consciousness Of Time: To Me The Present Is Never Here: It Is Always Last Year Or Next Week.
Liars
Next Week
Years
And There, In That Phrase, The Bitterness Leaks Again Out Of My Pen. What A Dull Lifeless Quality This Bitterness Is. If I Could I Would Write With Love, But If I Could Write With Love I Would Be Another Man; I Would Never Have Lost Love.
Lost Love
Writing
Men
It's A Good World If You Don't Weaken.
World
Ifs
Would The World Be In The Mess It Is If We Were Loyal To Love And Not To Countries?
Country
Patriotism
World
Had Shakespeare Listened To The News Of Duncans Death In A Tavern Or Heard The Knocking On His Own Bedroom Door After He Had Finished The Writing Of Macbeth?
Writing
Doors
Taverns
However Great A Man's Fear Of Life, Suicide Remains The Courageous Act, The Clear-headed Act Of A Mathematician. The Suicide Has Judged By The Laws Of Chance - So Many Odds Against One That To Live Will Be More Miserable Than To Die. His Sense Of Mathematics Is Greater Than His Sense Of Survival. But Think How A Sense Of Survival Must Clamor To Be Heard At The Last Moment, What Excuses It Must Present Of A Totally Unscientific Nature.
Suicide
Suicidal
Men
The Great Advantage Of Being A Writer Is That You Can Spy On People. You're There, Listening To Every Word, But Part Of You Is Observing. Everything Is Useful To A Writer, You See - Every Scrap, Even The Longest And Most Boring Of Luncheon Parties.
Party
Inspiration
People
A Ruling Passion Gives To A Shelf Of Novels The Unity Of A System.
Passion
Giving
Unity
There Are Times When A Lover Longs To Be Also A Father And A Brother: He Is Jealous Of The Years He Hasn't Shared.
Brother
Father
Jealous
Sometimes I Get So Tired Of Trying To Convince Him That I Love Him And Shall Love Him For Ever. He Pounces On My Words Like A Barrister And Twists Them. I Know He Is Afraid Of That Desert Which Would Be Around Him If Our Love Were To End, But He Can't Realise That I Feel Exactly The Same. What He Says Aloud, I Say To Myself Silently And Write It Here.
Writing
Tired
I Love Him
Any Man Who Knocks On The Door Of A Brothel Is Looking For God.
Men
Doors
Brothels
What An Unbearable Creature He Must Have Been In Those Days--and Yet In Those Days He Had Been Comparatively Innocent. That Was Another Mystery: It Sometimes Seemed To Him That Venial Sins--impatience, An Unimportant Lie, Pride, A Neglected Opportunity--cut You Off From Grace More Completely Than The Worst Sins Of All. Then, In His Innocence, He Had Felt No Love For Anyone; Now In His Corruption He Had Learnt.
Lying
Pride
Cutting
Sentimentality - That's What We Call The Sentiment We Don't Share.
Relationship
Communication
Sentimental
Never Presume Yours Is A Better Morality.
Morality
Perhaps The Comparison Is Closer To The Chinese Cook Who Leaves Hardly Any Part Of A Duck Unserved.
Art
Ducks
Cooking
Christmas It Seems To Me Is A Necessary Festival; We Require A Season When We Can Regret All The Flaws In Our Human Relationships: It Is The Feast Of Failure, Sad But Consoling.
Christmas
Regret
Holiday
They Haven't Left Us Much To Believe, Have They? — Even Disbelief. I Can't Believe In Anything Bigger Than A Home, Or Anything Vaguer Than A Human Being.
Believe
Home
Bigger
All Good Novelists Have Bad Memories.
Memories
Novelists
Bad Memories
American Bankers Believe In The Personal Touch; The Teller Conveys A Sense That He Happens To Be There Accidentally And He Is Overjoyed At The Lucky Chance Of The Encounter.
Believe
Bankers
Encounters
Innocence Always Calls Mutely For Protection When We Would Be So Much Wiser To Guard Ourselves Against It: Innocence Is Like A Dumb Leper Who Has Lost His Bell, Wandering The World, Meaning No Harm.
Dumb
Would Be
Literature
The Hands Of The Guilty Don't Necessarily Tremble; Only In Stories Does A Dropped Glass Betray Agitation. Tension Is More Often Shown In The Studied Action.
Glasses
Hands
Guilt
The Truth Has Never Been Of Any Real Value To Any Human Being - It Is A Symbol For Mathematicians And Philosophers To Pursue. In Human Relations Kindness And Lies Are Worth A Thousand Truths.
Truth
Honesty
Kindness
One's Life Is More Formed, I Sometimes Think, By Books Than By Human Beings: It Is Out Of Books One Learns About Love And Pain At Second Hand.
Pain
Book
Thinking
I Had To Touch You With My Hands, I Had To Taste You With My Tongue; One Can't Love And Do Nothing.
Hands
Taste
Tongue
In The End There Is No Desire So Deep As The Simple Desire For Companionship.
Simple
Desire
Companionship
I Have Never Understood Why People Who Can Swallow The Enormous Improbability Of A Personal God Boggle At A Personal Devil.
People
Devil
Enormous
Innocence Is A Kind Of Insanity
Insanity
Innocence
Kind
Its Typical Of Mexico, Of The Whole Human Race Perhaps — Violence In Favour Of An Ideal And Then The Ideal Lost But The Violence Just Going On.
Race
Violence
Favour
I Have Often Noticed That A Bribe Has That Effect - It Changes A Relation. The Man Who Offers A Bribe Gives Away A Little Of His Own Importance; The Bribe Once Accepted, He Becomes The Inferior, Like A Man Who Has Paid For A Woman.
Men
Giving
Literature
Suffering Is Not Increased By Numbers; One Body Can Contain All The Suffering The World Can Feel.
Numbers
Suffering
World
He Was Impregnably Armored By His Good Intentions And His Ignorance.
Ignorance
Good Intentions
Intention
A Story Has No Beginning Or End: Arbitrarily One Chooses That Moment Of Experience From Which To Look Back Or From Which To Look Ahead.
Looks
Stories
Moments
As Long As One Suffers One Lives.
Long
Suffering
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