The Cellist of Sarajevo

by Steven Galloway

There was a moment before impact that was the last instant of things as they were. Then the visible world exploded.

she felt an enveloping happiness to be alive, a joy made stronger by the certainty that someday it would all come to an end.

It’s a rare gift to understand that your life is wondrous, and that it won’t last forever.

But Arrow believes they took these names so they could separate themselves from what they had to do, so the person who fought and killed could someday be put away.

You don’t choose what to believe. Belief chooses you.

Deciding how much water you can carry has become something of an art in this city.

There is much to talk about, but none of it can be said, none of it is worth saying.

‘There’s no war. The trams are still running,’

he doesn’t know how he could sit in a comfortable chair and drink a coffee with a friend and not think about this war and all that went with it.

‘A pessimist says, “Oh dear, things can’t possibly get any worse.” And an optimist says, “Don’t be so sad. Things can always get worse.”

‘There is more to life than ice cream,’

This is how she now believes life happens. One small thing at a time. A series of inconsequential junctions, any or none of which can lead to salvation or disaster. There are no grand moments where a person does or does not perform the act that defines their humanity. There are only moments that appear, briefly, to be this way.

He appears to care about the quality of his life.

What makes the difference, he realises, is whether you want to stay in the world you live in. Because while he will always be afraid of death, and nothing can change that, the question is whether your life is worth that fear.

Do you face the terror that must come with knowing you’re about to die, just for the sake of one last glimpse of life?

There are dead among the living, and they will be here long after this madness ends, if it ever ends.

we are washed away from the ground until even the memory of us is gone.

THERE IS NO WAY TO tell which version of a lie is the truth.

Because civilisation isn’t a thing that you build and then there it is, you have it forever. It needs to be built constantly, recreated daily. It vanishes far more quickly than he ever would have thought possible.

She didn’t have to be filled with hatred. The music demanded that she remember this, that she know to a certainty that the world still held the capacity for goodness. The notes were proof of that.