Shantaram

by Gregory David Roberts

And there’s no armour that can protect a heart, once it’s opened to love.

daß er seinen Schwanz ganz tief in einer meiner Schuhe hat!

We can’t really know what a pleasure it is to run in our own language until we’re forced to stumble in someone else’s.

And at night, too many nights, it was my restive sleep that rolled and turned the sea in lusted dreaming, until the sun each morning rose with love for her.

any Indian man will tell you that although love might not have been invented in India, it was certainly perfected there.

We lived out a life together in that kiss: we lived and loved and grew old together, and we died. Then our lips parted, and that life we might’ve had retreated, shrinking to a spark of light we would always recognise in one another’s eyes.