Yann Martel |
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.
It is true that those we meet can change us, sometimes so profoundly that we are not the same afterwards, even unto our names.
If we, citizens, do not support our artists, then we sacrifice our imagination on the altar of crude reality and we end up believing in nothing and having worthless dreams.
To choose doubt as a philosophy of life is akin to choosing immobility as a means of transportation.