Sarah Winman

“It was left to Nancy and me to pick up the pieces that my brother had become; to resurrect his shrunken spirit and pull his pale tear-stained face from beneath his pillow and give sense to a world that had given him none; he loved, yet he wasn't loved back.”

“Everyone had a story of grief. Everyone else's was worse than yours.”

“Três e vinte e oito. A Torre Norte desapareceu. Imagens da empoeirada superfície lunar onde outrora havia uma avenida de pessoas com cafés na mão, a sorrir, a dirigirem-se apressadamente para o trabalho, talvez a pensar no almoço ou no que iam fazer mais tarde, porque àquela hora da manhã o mais tarde ainda existia.”

“Se acredito num velhote que vive nas nuvens, com uma barba branca e que nos julga com um código moral numerado de um a dez? Deus do céu, não, Elly, não acredito! Já teria sido expulso desta vida há muitos anos devido à minha história atribulada. Se acredito num mistério; no inexplicável fenómeno que é a própria vida? Na entidade grandiosa que ilumina as incongruências das nossas vidas, que nos dá coisas pelas quais nos devemos esforçar e também a humildade para nos recompormos e recomeçarmos tudo de novo? Então sim, nisso acredito. É a fonte da arte, da beleza, do amor e professa a derradeira bondade para com os seres humanos. Para mim, isso é Deus. Para mim, isso é vida. É nisso que acredito.”

“A verdade, como ele sempre dizia, era sobrevalorizada; nunca ninguém ganhava prémios por dizer a verdade.”

“Questionei-me quanto achariam os raptores que ele valia; quanto achariam os meus pais que eu valia e interroguei-me sobre se o valor das pessoas estava ligado a coisas como a bondade, a utilidade ou a disponibilidade para ajudar as pessoas menos afortunadas. Achei que era provável que o meu valor fosse superior quando era criança.”

“Nada fica esquecido durante muito tempo, Elly. por vezes temos apenas de recordar ao mundo que somos especiais e que estamos aqui.”

“A penitência, recordou o meu irmão, é um lugar muito solitário.”

“- Mas tu disseste que quando fosse mais velha podia ser aquilo que quisesse - disse-lhe.Ela sorriu e respondeu:- E podes ser. Mas não é muito fácil tornarmo-nos judeus.- Eu sei - respondi desolada. - Preciso de um número.Ela parou subitamente de sorrir.”

“... I wrote about ... my childhood, when dreams were small and attainable for all. When sweets were a penny and god was a rabbit.”

“... we were all quiet for so long after, touched by the magnitude of it all. This is what we are connected to. What we are all connected to. When the lights go out, so do we.”

“I was never in any danger," she said calmly. "Nothing can ever hurt me. Nothing can take me from me.”

“... shunning all offers of help, all offers of the more practical... This was his task, he said, and it would be carried out alone. Penance, my brother reminded me, was a lonely place to be.”

“I pulled the blanket around my shoulders. The sky was dark and vast and empty and not even a plane disturbed that sullen stillness, not even a star. The emptiness above was now mine within. It was a part of me, like a freckle, like a bruise. Like a middle name now one acknowledged.”

“You can hold onto anything to make you carry on.”

“[My mum] was always like that: grateful for life itself. Her glass was not only half full, it was gold plated with a permanent refill.”

“Don't worry. It'll all come good in the end. Always does.”

“For I knew already that something had taken me from me, and had replaced it with a desperate longing for a time before; a time before fear; a time before shame. And now that knowledge had a voice that rose from the depths of my years and howled into the night sky like a wounded animal longing for home.”

“You see, that's who you are, Joe. All these things. That's the person I know, and through him is the way you'll know me, because connected to all these things are moments, and for so many of them, I was there. And that's the thing that hurts so much...You see, you were the only person who knew everything. Because you were there. You were my witness. And you make sense of the fucked-up mess I become every now and then. And I could at least look at you and think, at least he knows why I am the way I am. There were reasons. But I can't do that anymore and I feel so lonely.”

“I wondered if all women did with other women was lie and hug.”

“You said I could be anything I wanted when I was older', I said.She smiled and said, 'And you can be. But it's not very easy to become Jewish.''I know,' I said forlornly, 'I need a number.'And she suddenly stopped smiling.”

“-Eres viejo- Le dije (Quería decirle "Hola")”

“I am here but I am not yours.”

“I thought that probably I was worth more when I was younger.”

“never stop playing”

“Their banter was rich and comfortable, their teasing intimate and profound; their 'I love you' without the use of those startling words.”

“The first thing we need to find,' said Mr Golan, 'is a reason to live'....'Without a reason, why bother? Existence needs purpose: to be able to endure the pain of life with dignity; to give us a reason to continue. The meaning must enter our hearts, not out heads. We must understand the meaning of our suffering.”

“Memories no matter how small or inconsequential are the pages that define us.”

“Things happen. To everyone. No one escapes.”

“Shut up, Arthur,' said my mother, and he zipped his mouth shut like an infuriating child.Ginger started to laugh. Not at anything in particular, but just because Ginger was stoned.”

“I just want my friend back, I have become forgettable”

“Nothing stays forgotten for long, Elly. Sometimes we simply have to remind the world that we're special and that we're still here.”

“And he uncovered in us a curious need: that we each secretly wanted him to remember us the most. It was strange, both vital and flawed, until I realised that maybe the need to be remembered is stronger than the need to remember.”

“I divide my life into two parts. Not really a Before and After, more as if they are bookends, holding together flaccid years of empty musings, years of late adolescent or the twentysomething whose coat of adulthood simply does not fit.”

“My father believed it was a cancerous lump, not because my mother was genetically prone to such a thing, but because he was looking out for the saboteur of his wonderful life.”

“Do I believe in an old man in the clouds with a white beard judging us mortals with a moral code from one to ten? Good Lord no, my sweet Elly, I do not! I would have been cast out from this life years ago with my tatty history. Do I believe in a mystery; the unexplained phenomenon that is life itself? The greater something that illuminates inconsequence in our lives; that gives us something to strive for as well as the humility to brush ourselves down and start all over again? Then yes, I do. It is the source of art, of beauty, of love, and proffers the ultimate goodness to mankind. That to me is God. That to me is life. That is what I believe in.”

“Truth, as he always said, was overrated, nobody ever won prizes for telling the truth.”

“He started to do that, started to inform me of everything; the inconsequential, the meaningful; conversations that ended in a cul-de-sac of unanswerable rhetoric. i think it was because I knew everything about him, had read it all - the beautiful, the sordid, the all of his book. I had been his editor for 5 years, and now it seemed, had become his editor away from the printed page.”

“You had to translate his actions, for they were seldom accompanied by words, because his world was a quiet world; a disconnected, factured space; a puzzle that made him phone me at 3am, asking me for the last piece of the border, so he could fill in the sky.”

“And from that moment, I watched her. Watched her with different coloured eyes, until the raging energy that coursed through my body finally revealed itself and gave itself a name: envy. For I knew already that something had taken me from me, and had replaced itself with a desperate longing for a time before; a time before fear, a time before shame. And now that knowledge had a voice, and it was a voice that rose from the depths of my years and howled into the night sky like a wounded animal longing for home.”

“We were solitary and apart. Slept during the day, uncurled at dusk like evening primroses; fragrant and lush. We never wanted to conquer the world, only our fears. We didn't keep in touch. Somewhere, though, our memories had.”

“No amount of self-sufficiency could dispel the craving he still felt for that person we no longer talked about; that person who'd taken him apart and left a piece missing that none of us could find.”