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Paul Kalanithi
“There is a moment, a cusp, when the sum of gathered experience is worn down by the details of living. We are never so wise as when we live in this moment.”
Paul Kalanithi, When Breath Becomes Air

Richard Siken
“Imagine this:
You’re driving.
The sky’s bright. You look great.
In a word, in a phrase, it’s a movie,
you’re the star.
so smile for the camera, it’s your big scene,
you know your lines.
I’m the director. I’m in a helicopter.
I have a megaphone and you play along,
because you want to die for love,
you always have.
Imagine this:
You’re pulling the car over. Somebody’s waiting.
You’re going to die
in your best friend’s arms.
And you play along because it’s funny, because it’s written down,
you’ve memorized it,
it’s all you know.
I say the phrases that keep it all going,
and everybody plays along.
Imagine:
Someone’s pulling a gun, and you’re jumping into the middle of it.
You didn’t think you’d feel this way.
There’s a gun in your hand.
It feels hot. It feels oily.

I’m the director
and i’m screaming at you,
I’m waving my arms in the sky,
and everyone’s watching, everyone’s
curious, everyone’s
holding their breath.

'Planet of Love”
Richard Siken, Crush

Paul Kalanithi
“I began to realize that coming in such close contact with my own mortality had changed both nothing and everything. Before my cancer was diagnosed, I knew that someday I would die, but I didn’t know when. After the diagnosis, I knew that someday I would die, but I didn’t know when. But now I knew it acutely. The problem wasn’t really a scientific one. The fact of death is unsettling. Yet there is no other way to live.”
Paul Kalanithi, When Breath Becomes Air

Tim O'Brien
“They carried the sky. The whole atmosphere, they carried it, the humidity, the monsoons, the stink of fungus and decay, all of it, they carried gravity.”
Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried

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

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