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Kindle Notes & Highlights
I see now that our first experiences with loss shape us in ways we don’t understand at the time.
There is a story about a tribe of nomads crossing the Sahara Desert who pause every few hours in order to let their spirits catch up with them.
Vaclav Havel believed that hope was not the same thing as optimism. It was not, he believed, the conviction that something would turn out well; rather, it was “the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.”
It’s a long walk we take at the end to meet our maker. You’d think someone would answer when we bang on the door.
it is not the fact of Ian dead that shaped me; rather it was his death. The sudden absence, the depth of silence, the inexplicable disappearance.
Our beliefs are a kind of architecture of the mind, a way of creating meaning and interpreting the world.
The word translation derives from the Latin translatus, meaning “to bring over, carry over.” To translate is to “remove from one place to another.” Seen in this light, death itself is an act of translation.
