Marty C.

“Everything in the world began with a yes. One molecule said yes to another molecule and life was born”
― Clarice Lispector

“When my husband died, because he was so famous and known for not being a believer, many people would come up to me-it still sometimes happens-and ask me if Carl changed at the end and converted to a belief in an afterlife. They also frequently ask me if I think I will see him again. Carl faced his death with unflagging courage and never sought refuge in illusions. The tragedy was that we knew we would never see each other again. I don't ever expect to be reunited with Carl. But, the great thing is that when we were together, for nearly twenty years, we lived with a vivid appreciation of how brief and precious life is. We never trivialized the meaning of death by pretending it was anything other than a final parting. Every single moment that we were alive and we were together was miraculous-not miraculous in the sense of inexplicable or supernatural. We knew we were beneficiaries of chance. . . . That pure chance could be so generous and so kind. . . . That we could find each other, as Carl wrote so beautifully in Cosmos, you know, in the vastness of space and the immensity of time. . . . That we could be together for twenty years. That is something which sustains me and it’s much more meaningful. . . . The way he treated me and the way I treated him, the way we took care of each other and our family, while he lived. That is so much more important than the idea I will see him someday. I don't think I'll ever see Carl again. But I saw him. We saw each other. We found each other in the cosmos, and that was wonderful.”
― Ann Druyan

“I believe that in every person who has not yet become completely banal, completely a-creative, that child is still alive.
I believe that the great philosophers and thinkers have done nothing else but rethink the age-old questions of children: Where do I come from? Why am I in the world? Where am I going? What is the meaning of life? I believe that the works of the great writers, artists and musicians have their origin in the play of the eternal and divine child in them: that child who, totally disregarding external age, lives in us, whether we are nine or ninety years old; that child who never loses the capacity to wonder, to question, to be excited; that child in us, so vulnerable and helpless, who suffers and seeks comfort and hope; that child in us who constitutes, until our last day of life, our future.”
― Michael Ende

“Word - That invisible dagger”
― Emil M. Cioran