Trust your instincts, Dad always says. If something feels dodgy to you, if someone feels dodgy, you go with dodgy. Don’t give the benefit of the doubt because you want to be a nice person, don’t wait and see in case you look stupid. Safe comes first. Second could be too late.
There are all sorts of deep instincts in man of which he himself is unaware. The craving for blood – the demand for sacrifice!
The very essence of an instinct is that it is followed independently of reason.
The point is that one’s got an instinct to live. One doesn’t live because one’s reason assents to living. People who, as we say, ‘would be better dead,’ don’t want to die! People who apparently have got everything to live for just let themselves fade out of life because they haven’t got the energy to fight.
The crime passionel! The primitive instinct – to kill! So closely allied to the sex instinct.
Talk of woman’s instinct – why, it is well known all the world over that a woman is the surest mark for any rascally swindler. Not one in ten of them knows a scoundrel when she meets one.
Religion is an illusion and it derives its strength from its readiness to fit in with our instinctual wishful impulses.
Only animals have to satisfy instincts! Surely your aims are somewhat higher than theirs! Than monkeys — pigs!
Man is by instinct a lover, a hunter, a fighter, and none of those instincts are given much play at the warehouse!
Instinct is everything.
Instinct is a strange thing. You cannot touch it, feel it, smell it, or hear it, but you must trust it, and that night, as we listened to the slap of the waves and the creak of the oars, I was as certain as I could be that my fears were justified.
Instinct is a marvellous thing. It can neither be explained nor ignored.
