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Dare I say I miss him? I do. I miss him. I still see him in my dreams. They are nightmares mostly, but nightmares tinged with love. Such is the strangeness of the human heart.

Yann Martel

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Yann Martel
Age: 61
Born: 1963
Born: June 25
Author
Novelist
Prosaist
Screenwriter
Writer
Heart
Dare
Love
Missing
Tinged
Dreams
Strangeness
Dream
Nightmares
Stills
Goodbye
Still
Nightmare
Human
Mostly
Humans
Miss

More quotes by Yann Martel

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For evil in the open is but evil from within that has been let out.
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If you write genre fiction, you follow the rules, and you have to follow them because readers expect that.
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Atheists are my brothers and sisters of a different faith, and every word they speak speaks of faith. Like me, they go as far as the legs of reason will carry them -- and then they leap.
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The blackness would stir and eventually go away, and God would remain, a shining point of light in my heart. I would go on loving.
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Why do people move? What makes them uproot and leave everything they've known for a great unknown beyond the horizon? ... The answer is the same the world over: people move in the hope of a better life.
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...animals don't escape from somewhere but from something
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It is simple and brutal: a person can get used to anything, even to killing.
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How long does it take for a broken spirit to kill a body that has food, water and shelter?
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Don’t you bully me with your politeness!
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First wonder goes deepest wonder after that fits in the impression made by the first.
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Christianity is a religion in a rush.
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Slice a pear and you will find that its flesh is incandescent white. It glows with inner light. Those who carry a knife and a pear are never afraid of the dark.
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If you are pitched into misery, remember that your days on this earth are counted and you might as well make the best of those you have left.
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Truth is a nebulous thing. There are certain, definite truths, but the truth of our lives goes far beyond facts.
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The tennis challenger starts strong but soon loses confidence in his playing. The champion racks up the games. But in the final set, when the challenger has nothing left to lose, he becomes relaxed again, insouciant, daring. Suddenly he's playing like the devil and the champion must work hard to get those last points.
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In my youth, it was my good luck to have a few good teachers, men and women, who came into my head and lit a match.
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A realization that the founding principle of existence is what we call love, which works itself out sometimes not clearly, not cleanly, not immediately, nonetheless ineluctably.
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Just do it. Get it down on the page. Work hard. And then let go. Ask yourself why you want to write. You have to be clear about that.
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If you don't let technology help you, if you resist good ideas, you condemn yourself to dinosaurhood.
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It was a huge zoo, spread over numberless acres, big enough to require a train to explore it, though it seemed to get smaler as I grew older, train included. Now it's so small it fits in my head.
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