Chris Acree

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Behave: The Biolo...
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The Complete Fict...
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Sep 07, 2018 04:08PM

 
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Anthony Doerr
“Silence is the fruit of the occupation; it hangs in branches, seeps from gutters.”
Anthony Doerr, All the Light We Cannot See

Anthony Doerr
“From somewhere comes the sound of fire: the sound of dried roses being crumbled in a fist.”
Anthony Doerr, All the Light We Cannot See

Anthony Doerr
“Science, my lad, is made up of mistakes, but they are mistakes which it is useful to make, because they lead little by little to the truth.”
Anthony Doerr, All the Light We Cannot See

Paul Kalanithi
“Don’t think I ever spent a minute of any day wondering why I did this work, or whether it was worth it. The call to protect life—and not merely life but another’s identity; it is perhaps not too much to say another’s soul—was obvious in its sacredness. Before operating on a patient’s brain, I realized, I must first understand his mind: his identity, his values, what makes his life worth living, and what devastation makes it reasonable to let that life end. The cost of my dedication to succeed was high, and the ineluctable failures brought me nearly unbearable guilt. Those burdens are what make medicine holy and wholly impossible: in taking up another’s cross, one must sometimes get crushed by the weight.”
Paul Kalanithi, When Breath Becomes Air

Anthony Doerr
“Impossibly, the static coalesces into music. Volkheimer's eyes open as wide as they can. Straining the blackness for every stray photon. A single piano runs up scales. Then back down. He listens to the notes and the silences between them, and then finds himself leading horses through a forest at dawn, trudging through snow behind his great-grandfather, who walks with a saw draped over his huge shoulders, the snow squeaking beneath boots and hooves, all the trees above them whispering and creaking. They reach the edge of a frozen pond, where a pine grows as tall as a cathedral. His great-grandfather goes to his knees like a penitent, fits the saw into a groove in the bark, and begins to cut.”
Anthony Doerr, All the Light We Cannot See

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