From one of my favorite books, Shantaram.
Truth is a bully that we all pretend to like (Karla)
I dont know what frightens me more, the power that crushes us, or our endless ability to endure it (Karla)
Sometimes we love with nothing more than hope. Sometimes we cry with everything exept tears. In the end that’s all there is: love and its duty, sorrow and its truth. In the end that’s all we have - to hold on tight until the dawn
Some of the worst wrongs, were caused by people who tried to change things (Karla)
It’s forgiveness that makes us what we are. Without forgiveness, our species would’ve annihilated itself in endless retributions. Without forgiveness, there would be no history. Without that hope, there would be no art, for every work of art is in some way an act of forgiveness. Without that dream, there would be no love, for every act of love is in some way a promise to forgive. We live on because we can love, and we love because we can forgive.
One of the ironies of courage and why we prize it so highly, is that we find it easier to be brave for somone else than we do for ourselves alone
The tendency towards complexity has carried the universe from almost perfect simplicity to the kind of complexity that we see around us, everywhere we look. The universe is always doing this. It is always moving from the simple to the complex.
Happiness is a myth. it was invented to make us buy things (Karla)
The only time he ever stopped hating himself was when the risk he faced became so great that he acted without thinking or feeling anything at all (A dutch mercenary)
Heroin is a sensory deprivation tank for the soul.
Floating on the dead sea of the drug stone, there’s no sense of pain, no regret or shame, no feelings of guilt or grief, no depression and no desire. The sleeping universe enters and envelops every atom of existence. Insensible stillness and peace disperse fear and suffering. Thoughts drift like ocean weeds and vanish into distant, grey somnolency, unpercieved and indeterminable. The body succumbs to cryogenic slumber: the listless heart beats faintly, and breathing slowly fades to random whispers. Thick nirvanic numbness clogs the limbs, and downward, deeper, the sleeper slides and glides towards oblivion, the perfect and eternal stone.
And I looked at the men, the brave and beautiful men beside me, running into the guns and God help me for thinking it, and God forgive me for saying it, but it was glorious, it was glorious, if glory is a magnificient and raptured exaltation. It was what love would be like, if love were a sin. It was what music would be, if music could kill you. And I climbed a prison wall with every running step.
Nothing in any life, no matter how well or poorly lived, is wiser than failure or clearer than sorrow. And in the tiny precious wisdom they give to us, even those dreaded and hated enemies, suffering and failure, have their reason and their right to be.
Luck is what happens to you when fate gets tired of waiting.
Sometimes you love only with hope, sometimes, you cry without tears. Someetimes, thats all that is left, to cling together till the dawn.
I was grown up enough to understand the feeling of comfort that he felt and small enough to wish and hope Karla saw it and was impressed with it.
It took me a long time and most of the world to learn what I know about love and fate and the choices we make, but the heart of it came to be in an instant, while I was chained to a wall and being tortured.
Astounding and puzzling images from the city tumbled and turned in my mind like leaves on a wave of wind, and my blood so thrilled with hope and possibility that I couldn’t suppress a smile, lying there in the dark…In that moment, in those shadows, I was almost safe.
The past reflects eternally between two mirrors -the bright mirror of words and deeds, and the dark one, full of things we didn’t do or say.
Happiness is a myth. It was invented to make us buy new things.
It’s such a huge arrogance, to love someone, and there’s too much of it around. There’s to much love in the world. Sometimes I think thats what heaven is - a place where everybody’s happy because nobody loves anybody else, ever. - Karla
We know who we are and define what we are by references to the people we love and our reasons for loving them.
You can never tell what people have inside them, until you start taking it away
A dream is a place where a wish and a fear meet. When the wish and fear are exactly the same, we call the dream a nightmare.
Silence is the tortured mans revenge
If fate doesn’t make you laugh, you just don’t get the joke
Men reveal what they think when they look away, and what they feel when they hesitate. With women, it’s the other way around.
News is about what people do. Gossip is about how they enjoyed doing it.
Nothing grieves more deeply or pathetically than one half of a great love that isn’t meant to be.
It’s forgiveness that makes us what we are.
Without forgiveness, our species would’ve annihilated itself in endless retributions. Without forgiveness, there would be no history. Without that hope, there would be no art, for every work of art is in some way an act of forgiveness. Without that dream, there would be no love, for every act of love is in some way a promise to forgive. We live on because we can love, and we love because we can forgive.
Sometimes we love with nothing more than hope. Sometimes we cry with everything except tears. In the end that’s all there is - love and its duty, sorrow and its truth. In the end that’s all we have - to hold on tight until the dawn
One of the ironies of courage and why we prize it so highly, is that we find it easier to be brave for someone else than we do for ourselves alone
The tendency towards complexity has carried the universe from almost perfect simplicity to the kind of complexity that we see around us, everywhere we look. The universe is always doing this. It is always moving from the simple to the complex.
And I looked at the men, the brave and beautiful men beside me, running into the guns and God help me for thinking it, and God forgive me for saying it, but it was glorious, it was glorious, if glory is a magnificent and ruptured exaltation. It was what love would be like, if love were a sin. It was what music would be, if music could kill you. And I climbed a prison wall with every running step.
The only time he ever stopped hating himself was when the risk he faced became so great that he acted without thinking or feeling anything at all
Nothing in any life, no matter how well or poorly lived, is wiser than failure or clearer than sorrow. And in the tiny precious wisdom they give to us, even those dreaded and hated enemies, suffering and failure, have their reason and their right to be.
A dream is a place where a wish and a fear meet. When the wish and fear are exactly the same, we call the dream a nightmare.
Guilt is the hilt of the knife that we use on ourselves, and love is often the blade; but it’s worry that keeps the knife sharp; and worry that gets most of us, in the end.
Luck is what happens to you when fate gets tired of waiting.
Sometimes you love only with hope, sometimes, you cry without tears. Sometimes, that’s all that is left, to cling together till the dawn.
The past reflects eternally between two mirrors -the bright mirror of words and deeds, and the dark one, full of things we didn’t do or say.
Men reveal what they think when they look away, and what they feel when they hesitate. With women, it’s the other way around.
Happiness is a myth. It was invented to make us buy new things.
It’s such a huge arrogance, to love someone, and there’s too much of it around. There’s too much love in the world. Sometimes I think that’s what heaven is - a place where everybody’s happy because nobody loves anybody else, ever.
You can never tell what people have inside them, until you start taking it away
Silence is the tortured mans revenge
News is about what people do. Gossip is about how they enjoyed doing it.
Every virtuous act has some dark secret in its heart; every risk we take contains a mystery that can’t be solved.
…The wrong thing for the right reason…
There’s no meanness too spiteful or too cruel, when we hate someone for all the wrong reasons.
Every virtuous act has some dark secret in its heart; every risk we take contains a mystery that can’t be solved.
Guilt is the hilt of the knife that we use on ourselves, and love is often the blade; but it’s worry that keeps the knife sharp; and worry that gets most of us, in the end.
At first, when we truly love someone, our greatest fear is that the loved one will stop loving us. What we should fear and dread instead is that we won’t stop loving them, even after they are dead and gone.
The biggest problem with corruption as a form of government, is that it works so well.
Some people always manage to make us feel sorry for them, no matter how stupid or angry we feel about it later. They’re the canaries kind of , in the coalmines of our hearts. If we stop feeling for them when they let us down , we are in deep trouble
People haven’t stopped beleiving in love. They have stopped wanting to be in love. They just dont beleive in happy endings anymore. They still beleive in love, and falling in love but now they know that romances almost never end as well as they begin
When we fall in love with someone our greatest fear is that they wont love us back,what we should fear instead is that we wont stop loving them
Only the anarchists trust human beings enough to ;et them work it out themselves
