Perché vediamo solo quello che conosciamo. Siamo convinti che gli altri siano capaci di fare solamente ciò che sappiamo fare anche noi, nel bene e nel male. Per questo riconosciamo come amore solo quello che corrisponde all'immagine che ne abbiamo. Vogliamo essere amati come amiamo noi. Ogni altro modo ci è estraneo, lo guardiamo con sfiducia, ne fraintendiamo i segni, non capiamo la sua lingua. Accusiamo. Affermiamo che l'altro non ci ama. E invece forse ci ama in un modo tutto suo, che noi non conosciamo.
Jan-Philipp SendkerMa i morti, ce li lasciamo alle spalle o li portiamo con noi? Credo che li portiamo con noi. Ci accompagnano. Ci restano vicini - solo in un'altra forma. Dobbiamo imparare a convivere assieme a loro e alla loro morte.
Jan-Philipp SendkerI have often wondered what was the source of her beauty, her radiance. It’s not the size of one’s nose, the color of one’s skin, the shape of one’s lips or eyes that make one beautiful or ugly. So what is it? Can you, as a woman, tell me?
I shook my head.
I will tell you: It’s love. Love makes us beautiful. Do you know a single person who loves and is loved, who is loved unconditionally and who, at the same time, is ugly? There’s no need to ponder the question. There is no such person.
He expected nothing more from life. Not because he was disappointed or embittered. He expected nothing because there was nothing of importance that he had not already experienced. He possessed all the happiness that a person could find. He loved and was loved. Unconditionally.
Jan-Philipp SendkerDeath is not the end of life, but a stage thereof.
Jan-Philipp SendkerOnly a few days earlier he had explained to her that he did not merely read books but traveled with them, that they took him to other countries and unfamiliar continents, and that with their help he was always getting to know new people, many of whom even became his friends.
Jan-Philipp SendkerTags: reading books adventure travels
Who are you? What’s your name?”
“Mi Mi.”
“Do you hear that thumping noise?”
“No.”
“It must be here somewhere.” Tin Win knelt down. Now it was nearly next to his ear. “I hear it more and more distinctly. A soft pulsing. You really don’t hear it?”
“No.”
“Close your eyes.”
Mi Mi closed her eyes. “Nothing,” she said, and laughed. Tin Win leaned over and felt her breath on his face. “I think it’s coming from you.” He crept closer to her and held his head just in front of her chest.
There it was. Her heartbeat.
Tags: love heart sounds heartbeat
And so there must be in life something like a catastrophic turning point, when the world as we know ceases to exist. A moment that transform us into a different person from one heartbeat to the next.
Jan-Philipp SendkerHow can anyone truthfully claim to love someone when they’re not prepared to share everything with that person, including their past?
Jan-Philipp SendkerShe hoped that Tin Win would learn what she had learned over the years: that there are wounds time does not heal, though it can reduce them to a manageable size.
Jan-Philipp SendkerPage 1 of 2.
next last »
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.