Fine fellows, cannibals

Trees, trees, millions of trees, massive, immense, running up high; and at their foot, hugging the bank, against the stream, crept the little begrimed steamboat, like a sluggish beetle crawling on the floor of a lofty portico. Des arbres, encore des arbres,...

... in their place. They were men one could work with and I am grateful to them. And after all, they did not eat each other before my face;" C'est Conrad qui le dit, dans Heart of Darkness. J'aime l'humour flegmatique de ce livre, qui ne parvient pas...