I have heard no word of my own language; I am rendered dumb.
David MaloufWe are free at last to believe in ourselves.
David MaloufScarlet! It is the first colour I have seen in months. Or so it seems. Scarlet. A little wild poppy, of a red so sudden it made my blood stop. I kept saying the word over and over to myself, scarlet, as if the word, like the colour, had escaped me till now, and just saying it would keep the little windblown flower in sight.
David MaloufEverything I ever valued before this was valued only because it was useless, because time spent upon it was not demanded but freely given, because to play is to be free. Free is not a word that exists here, I think, in their language. Nothing here is free of its own nature, its own law.
David MaloufWhat else is death but the refusal any longer to grow and suffer change?
David MaloufOr does not knowing make him free?
David MaloufI am immeasurably, unbearably happy. I am three years old. I am sixty. I am six. I am there.
David MaloufAlways to be pushing out like this, beyond what I know cannot be the limits - what else should a man's life be?
David MaloufI now have of a life that stretches beyond the limits of measurable time.
David MaloufWhat else should our lives be but a continual series of beginnings, of painful settings out into the unknown, pushing off from the edges of consciousness into the mystery of what we have not yet become.
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