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"In July 2013, Oliver Sacks turned eighty and wrote [a] ... piece in The New York Times about the prospect of old age and the freedom he envisioned for himself in binding together the thoughts and feelings of a lifetime. Eighteen months later, he was given a diagnosis of terminal cancer--which he announced publically in another piece in The New York Times. Gratitude is Sacks's meditation on why life [continued] to enthrall him even as he [faced] the all-too-close presence of his own death, and how to live out the months that [remained] in the richest and deepest way possible"--… (meer)
Four essays by Sacks examining his life in his early 80s after leaning he has incurable metastasized cancer. Instead of gloomy and depressed, Sacks is filled with gratitude for the life he's lived.
I suspect that I will come back to this at different times in my life when I am more in need of his message. ( )
I wanted to continue reading this man's work after having read one of his books, and it was probably a wrong choice, since it has left me questioning my life in the search for something unique to do with it, in a time when my immature thoughts conflict with the need to contribute in some field these years that will be given to me. The philosophy is so painful that eventually all you can do is stop thinking at all or start thinking scientifically; there's no in between. These are the thoughts that this book generated in my mind, although the view of Oliver is much brighter and optimistic than my own, a fact quite ironic if one considers that he wrote his final breath on this book and here I am sixty years younger than he was, wondering curiously and wishing for my future life to have an impact and to offer something important to the world. So many thoughts, so many feelings since I realize that even a man of his accomplishments has a tiny voice inside pushing him to want to do more and know more and explore everything this world has to offer. And it's almost terrifying to see from the view of a brilliant dead man through his biographic pages and realising that noone can actually do everything because then people would live in a state of constant panic. I will close this huge and probably unimportant monologue saying that whatever contains the thoughts and points of view of this man is remarkable and I definitely recommend it to be read. ( )
I read this book in one night, if not one hour, when I couldn't sleep. It helped me understand my grandmother's death, death in general, and the gift 0f living a full life. ( )
Informatie afkomstig uit de Engelse Algemene Kennis.Bewerk om naar jouw taal over te brengen.
I am now face to face with dying, but I am not finished with living.
Opdracht
Eerste woorden
Informatie afkomstig uit de Engelse Algemene Kennis.Bewerk om naar jouw taal over te brengen.
Last night I dreamed about mercury—huge, shining globules of quicksilver rising and falling.
Citaten
Informatie afkomstig uit de Engelse Algemene Kennis.Bewerk om naar jouw taal over te brengen.
I have been increasingly conscious, for the last ten years or so, of deaths among my contemporaries. My generation is on the way out, and each death I have felt as an abruption, a tearing away of part of myself. There will be no one like us when we are gone, but then there is no one like anyone else, ever. When people die, they cannot be replaced. They leave holes that cannot be filled, for it is the fate—the genetic and neural fate—of every human being to be a unique individual, to find his own path, to live his own life, to die his own death.
Above all, I have been a sentient being, a thinking animal, on this beautiful planet, and that in itself has been an enormous privilege and adventure.
Laatste woorden
Informatie afkomstig uit de Engelse Algemene Kennis.Bewerk om naar jouw taal over te brengen.
I find my thoughts drifting to the Sabbath, the day of rest, the seventh day of the week, and perhaps the seventh day of one’s life as well, when one can feel that one’s work is done, and one may, in good conscience, rest.
"In July 2013, Oliver Sacks turned eighty and wrote [a] ... piece in The New York Times about the prospect of old age and the freedom he envisioned for himself in binding together the thoughts and feelings of a lifetime. Eighteen months later, he was given a diagnosis of terminal cancer--which he announced publically in another piece in The New York Times. Gratitude is Sacks's meditation on why life [continued] to enthrall him even as he [faced] the all-too-close presence of his own death, and how to live out the months that [remained] in the richest and deepest way possible"--
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I suspect that I will come back to this at different times in my life when I am more in need of his message. (