Yann Martel

Yann
Martel
1963

Spanish-born Canadian Author of Novel "Life of Pi"

Author Quotes

Nature can put on a thrilling show. The stage is vast, the lighting is dramatic, the extras are innumerable, and the budget for special effects is absolutely unlimited.

One discovers weeping?one?s weeping personality?only upon weeping. It is a strange discovery, not only to others but to oneself

Reality escapes us. It's beyond description, even a simple pear. Time eats everything.

So you want another story? Uhh... no. We would like to know what really happened. Doesn't the telling of something always become a story? Uhh... perhaps in English. In Japanese a story would have an element of invention in it. We don't want any invention. We want the 'straight facts,' as you say in English. Isn't telling about something--using words, English or Japanese--already something of an invention? Isn't just looking upon this world already something of an invention?

The boundaries are not to be blurred. I was sent off, struck by his harshest thunderbolt, excommunication. In his eyes I am no longer a man of the cloth. But yet I feel the Lord's hand Holding Me Up.

The mongoose looked away. They did it like one man, all of them turning in the same direction at exactly the same time. I pulled myself out to see what it was. It was Richard Parker. He confirmed what I had suspected, that these mongoose had gone for so many generations without predators that any notion of flight distance, of flight, of plain fear, had been genetically weeded out of them. He was moving through them, blazing a trail of murder and mayhem, devouring one mongoose after another, blood dripping from his mouth, and they, cheek to jowl with a tiger, were jumping up and down on the spot, as if crying, My turn! My turn! My turn!

The sound would disappear, but the hurt would linger, like the smell of piss long after it has evaporated.

There is a great reward for the eye observing and listening ear.

This was all a bit much for me. The tone was right?loving and brave?but the details seemed bleak. I said nothing. It wasn?t for fear of angering Mr. Kumar. I was more afraid that in a few words thrown out he might destroy something that I loved. What if his words had the effect of polio on me? What a terrible disease that must be if it could kill God in a man.

To say something about fear. This life is the only real enemy. Only fear can defeat life. Clever, insidious enemy, then I know. Not included honesty, mercy, knows no law, no decency, did not give mercy. The man attacked the weakest point, infallibly, you can easily find it. Always starts in the brain. One moment they relaxed, confident, happy feel. Then I fear, doubt Jerseys quiet, sneaking into our brains like a spy. Doubt meets disbelief and disbelief try to reject. But unbelief poorly armed foot soldiers. Doubt can easily take care of. The man starts anxious. It comes to reason, to fight for us. Calms down. The reason is equipped with the latest military technology. But despite the astonishment of many higher-order tactics and indisputable victory of rationality Spreads. We feel that weakened volatile. Anxiety varies terror. Fear then turns completely to the body, which knows that a terrible wrong. The lungs had flown like a bird in the overlooked intestines like a snake. Now the slump dead language, like a possum, jaw and galloping in one place. The deaf ears. Our muscles begin to shake as if it were malaria and the knees are shaking it as if dancing. And the same thing happens with the rest of the body. Every part of us, the best way for him, falls apart. Only your eyes work well. Always accompanied by proper attention to fear. We Hasty decisions. Last oust allies: hope and confidence. And we'll beat ourselves. The fear is, after all, just a feeling, triumphed over us.

Life and death live and die in exactly the same spot, the body. It is from there that both babies and cancers are born.

Mr. Piscine Molitor Patel, Indian citizen, is an astounding story of courage and endurance in the face of extraordinarily difficult and tragic circumstances. In the experience of this investigator, his story is unparalleled in the history of shipwrecks. Very few castaways can claim to have survived so long at sea as Mr. Patel, and none in the company of an adult Bengal tiger.

Near the animals social status are the ones that are making utmost efforts in order to be linked to the supervisors

One might even argue that if an animal could choose with intelligence, it would opt for living in a zoo, since the major difference between a zoo and the wild is the absence of parasites and enemies and the abundance of food in the first, and their respective abundance and scarcity in the second. Think about it yourself. Would you rather be put up at the Ritz with free room service and unlimited access to a doctor or be homeless without a soul to care for you?... But I don't insist. I don't mean to defend zoos. Close them all down if you want (and let us hope that what wildlife remains can survive in what is left of the natural world). I know zoos are no longer in people's good graces. Religion faces the same problem. Certain illusions about freedom plague them both.

Reason is my prophet and it tells me that as a watch stops, so we die. It?s the end. If the watch doesn?t work properly, it must be fixed here and now by us.

So, Swami Jesus, will you go on the hajj this year? Ravi said, bringing the palms of his hands together in front of his face in a reverent namaskar. Does Mecca beckon? He crossed himself. Or will it be to Rome for your coronation as the next Pope Pius? He drew in the air a Greek letter, making clear the spelling of his Mockery. Have you found time yet to get the end of your pecker cut off and become a Jew? At the rate you're going, if you go to temple on Thursday, mosque on Friday, synagogue on Saturday and church on Sunday, you only need to convert to three more religions to be on holiday for the rest of your life.

The clear liquid in our eyes is seawater and therefore there are fish in our eyes, seawater being the natural medium of fish. Since blue and green are the colors of the richest seawater, blue and green eyes are the fishiest. Dark eyes are somewhat less fecund and albino eyes are nearly fishless, sadly so. But the quantity of fish in an eye means nothing. A single tigerfish can be as beautiful, as powerful, as an entire school of seafaring tuna. That science has never observed ocular fish does nothing to refute my theory; on the contrary, it emphasizes the key hypothesis, which is: love is the food of eye fish and only love will bring them out. So to look closely into someone's eyes with cold, empirical interest is like the rude tap-tap of a finder on an aquarium, which only makes the fish flee. In a similar vein, when I took to looking at myself closely in mirrors during the turmoil of adolescence, the fact that I saw nothing in my eyes, not even the smallest guppy or tadpole, said something about my unhappiness and lack of faith in myself at the time... I no longer believe in eye fish in [i]fact[/i], but still do in metaphor. In the passion of an embrace, when breath, the win, is at its loudest and skin at its saltiest, I still nearly think that I could stop things and hear, feel, the rolling of the sea. I am still nearly convinced that, when my love and I kiss, we will be blessed with the sight of angelfish and sea-horses rising to the surface of our eyes, these fish being the surest proof of our love. In spite of everything, I sill profoundly believe that love is something oceanic.

The moon distresses you by silently reminding you of your solitude; you open your eyes wide to escape your loneliness.

The sun was beginning to pull the curtains on the day.

There people fail to realize that it is on the inside that God must be defended, not on the outside.

Those we meet can change us, sometimes so profoundly we are not the same afterwards.

To shriek and to slam the door shut repeatedly?with a deafening clang each time?until the keeper, notified by a visitor, hurried over to remedy the situation. A herd of roe-deer in a European zoo stepped out of their corral when the gate was left open. Frightened by visitors, the deer bolted for the nearby forest, which had its own herd of wild roe-deer and could support more. Nonetheless,

Life has taught him not to show off what is most precious to him.

Much hostile and aggressive behaviour among animals is the expression of social insecurity.

Nevertheless, an Olympic pool is an Olympic pool, touched by immortal glory.

First Name
Yann
Last Name
Martel
Birth Date
1963
Bio

Spanish-born Canadian Author of Novel "Life of Pi"