Life and death live and die in exactly the same spot, the body. It is from there that both babies and cancers are born.
YANN MARTELChristianity is a religion in a rush. Look at the world created in seven says. Even on a symbolic lovel, that’s creation in frenzy.
More Yann Martel Quotes
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People always seek to compare. They can take the new, but only if it is somehow connected to the familiar.
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The world isn’t just the way it is. It is how we understand it, no? And in understanding something, we bring something to it, no? Doesn’t that make life a story?
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It is true that those we meet can change us, sometimes so profoundly that we are not the same afterwards, even unto our names.
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I cannot think of a better way to spread the faith. No thundering from a pulpit, no condemnation from bad churches, no peer pressure, just a book of scripture quietly waiting to say hello, as gentle and powerful as a little girl’s kiss on your cheek.
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I can’t live for more than four years outside of Canada. I’m Canadian, so ultimately that is my reference point.
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It’s important in life to conclude things properly. Only then can you let go.
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It is pointless to say that this or that night was the worst of my life. I have so many bad nights to choose from that I’ve made none the champion.
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My gratitude to him is as boundless as the Pacific ocean.
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Dare I say I miss him? I do. I miss him. I still see him in my dreams. They are nightmares mostly, but nightmares tinged with love. Such is the strangeness of the human heart.
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There is nothing more satisfying than having a sentence fall into place in a way you feel is right, and then adding another one and then another one. It’s extraordinarily satisfying.
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Afterwards, when it’s all over, you meet God. What do you say to God?
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I have read that there are two fears that cannot be trained out of us: the startle reaction upon hearing an unexpected noise, and vertigo.
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Even when God seemed to have abandoned me, he was watching. Even when he seemed indifferent to my suffering, he was watching. And when I was beyond all hope of saving, he gave me rest. Then he gave me a sign to continue my journey.
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Why make dirty what is beautiful, spoil what is perfect? Love.
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I can well imagine an athiest’s last words: “White, white! L-L-Love! My God!” – and the deathbed leap of faith.
YANN MARTEL