I went about the job in a direct way. I took the hatchet in both my hands and vigorously beat the fish on the head with the hammerhead (I still didn’t have the stomach to use the sharp edge).
YANN MARTELLife is an interpretation of a series of facts, and that interpretation is really what life is about. So the division between non-fiction and fiction has a certain logic, but it’s a very limited one. And by and large, it isn’t helpful.
More Yann Martel Quotes
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For fear, real fear such as shakes you to your foundation, such as you feel when you are brought face to face with your mortal end, nestles in your memory like a gangrene: it seeks to rot everything, even the words with which to speak of it.
YANN MARTEL -
Life is a peephole, a single tiny entry onto a vastness–how can I not dwell on this brief, cramped view of things? This peephole is all I’ve got!
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The idea of a flip book still really appeals to me. That idea of fiction and non-fiction.
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If you write genre fiction, you follow the rules, and you have to follow them because readers expect that.
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If you took the city of Tokyo and turned it upside down and shook it you would be amazed at the animals that fall out: badgers, wolves, boa constrictors, crocodiles, ostriches, baboons, capybaras, wild boars, leopards, manatees, ruminants, in untold numbers.
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A realization that the founding principle of existence is what we call love, which works itself out sometimes not clearly, not cleanly, not immediately, nonetheless ineluctably.
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We are all born like Catholics, aren’t we—in limbo, without religion, until some figure introduces us to God?
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Artists invent things as a way of telling the truth.
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Survival starts by paying attention to what is close at hand and immediate. To look out with idle hope is tantamount to dreaming one’s life away.
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We were, literally and figuratively, in the same boat.
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Life and death live and die in exactly the same spot, the body. It is from there that both babies and cancers are born.
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Words are cold, muddy toads trying to understand sprites dancing in a field-but they’re all we have.
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I find that movies tend to fix the aesthetics of a story in people’s minds.
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Despair was a heavy blackness that let no light in or out. It was a hell beyond expression. I thank God it always passed.
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To lose a brother is to lose someone with whom you can share the experience of growing old, who is supposed to bring you a sister-in-law and nieces and nephews, creatures who people the tree of your life and give it new branches.
YANN MARTEL