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Gregory David Roberts

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Famous Gregory David Roberts Quotes

“She loved the guy. She did it for him. She would’ve done anything for him. Some people are like that. Some loves are like that. Most loves are like that, from what I can see. Your heart starts to feel like an overcrowded lifeboat. You throw your pride out to keep it afloat, and your self-respect and your independence. After a while you start throwing people out—your friends, everyone you used to know. And it’s still not enough. The lifeboat is still sinking, and you know it’s going to take you down with it. I’ve seen that happen to a lot of people here. I think that’s why I’m sick of love.”

Love
Book:Shantaram
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“The past is a novel, written by Fate, weaving the same themes: love and its glory, hate and its prisoners, the soul and its price. Our decisions become narratives: fated choices that unknowably change the course of the living river. In the present, where decisions and connections are made, Fate waits on the riverbank of Story, leaving us to our mistakes and miracles, because it’s our will alone that leads us to one or the other.”

LovePastHopeFateGloryPrisonDecisions
Book:The Mountain Shadow
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“The Source of all things, the luminescence, has more forms than heaven’s stars, sure. And one good thought is all it takes to make it shine. But a single mistake can burn down a forest in your heart, hiding all the stars, in all the skies. And while a mistake’s still burning, ruined love or lost faith can make you think you’re done, and you can’t go on. But it’s not true. It’s never true. No matter what you do, no matter where you’re lost, the luminescence never leaves you. Any good thing that dies inside can rise again, if you want it hard enough. The heart doesn’t know how to quit, because it doesn’t know how to lie. You lift your eyes from the page, fall into the smile of a perfect stranger, and the searching starts all over again. It’s not what it was. It’s always different. It’s always something else. But the new forest that grows back in a scarred heart is sometimes wilder and stronger than it was before the fire. And if you stay there, in that shine within yourself, that new place for the light, forgiving everything and never giving up, sooner or later you’ll always find yourself right back there where love and beauty made the world: at the beginning. The beginning. The beginning.”

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Book:The Mountain Shadow
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“At first, when we truly love someone, our greatest fear is that the loved one will stop loving us. What we should fear and dread, of course, is that we won't stop loving them, even after they are dead and gone. For I still love you with the whole of my heart, Prabaker. I still love you. And sometimes, my friend, the love that I have and can't give to you, crushes the breath from my chest. Sometimes, even now, my heart is drowning in a sorrow that has no stars without you, and no laughter, and no sleep.”

LoveDeathFriendshipLossSorrowShantaram
Book:Shantaram
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“Я люблю тебя с той самой секунды, когда впервые увидел тебя. Мне кажется, я всегда любил тебя – столько, сколько существует на свете любовь. Я люблю твой голос. Я люблю твое лицо. Я люблю твои руки. Я люблю все, что ты делаешь, и то, как ты это делаешь. Когда ты прикасаешься ко мне, мне кажется, что это волшебная палочка. Я люблю следить за тем, как ты думаешь, и слушать то, что ты говоришь. Я чувствую все это, но не понимаю и не могу объяснить – ни тебе, ни себе. Я просто люблю тебя, люблю всем сердцем. Ты выполняешь миссию Бога: придаешь смысл моей жизни. И потому мне есть за что любить этот мир.”

PeopleLoveLifeShantaram
Book:Shantaram
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“Любимый цвет: голубой с зеленью, цвет листьев на фоне неба. - Черт, и правда ведь, - признал я. А любимое время года? - Муссон, сезон дождей. - Любимый...- Голливудский фильм - "Касабланка", любимый болливудский фильм - "Узник любви", любимая еда - мороженое-джелато, любимая песня на хинди - "Этот мир и эти люди" из фильма "Разочарование", любимый мотоцикл...тот, на котором ты сейчас ездишь, да благословят его боги, любимые духи...- Твои, - вздохнул я, в отчаянии вскидывая руки. - Мои любимые духи - твои.”

PeopleLoveShantaramThings
Book:The Mountain Shadow
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“The Indians are the Italians of Asia", Didier pronounced with a sage and mischievous grin. "It can be said, certainly, with equal justice, that the Italians are the Indians of Europe, but you do understand me, I think. There is so much Italian in the Indians, and so much Indians in the Italians. They are both people of the Madonna - they demand a goddess, even if the religion does not provide one. Every man in both countries is a singer when he is happy, and every woman is a dancer when she walks to the shop at the corner. For them, food is music inside the body, and music is food inside the heart. The Language of India and the language of Italy, they make every man a poet, and make something beautiful from every banalite. They are nations where love - amore, pyaar - makes a cavalier of a Borsalino on a street corner, and makes a princess of a peasant girl, if only for the second that her eyes meet yours.”

LoveIndiansItaliansPyaar
Book:Shantaram
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“Mumbai is the sweet, sweaty smell of hope, which is the opposite of hate; and it's the sour, stifled smell of greed, which is the opposite of love. It's the smell of Gods, demons, empires, and civilizations in resurrection and decay. Its the blue skin-smell of the sea, no matter where you are in the island city, and the blood metal smell of machines. It smells of the stir and sleep and the waste of sixty million animals, more than half of them humans and rats. It smells of heartbreak, and the struggle to live, and of the crucial failures and love that produces courage. It smells of ten thousand restaurants, five thousand temples, shrines, churches and mosques, and of hunderd bazaar devoted exclusively to perfume, spices, incense, and freshly cut flowers. That smell, above all things - is that what welcomes me and tells me that I have come home. Then there were people. Assamese, Jats, and Punjabis; people from Rajasthan, Bengal, and Tamil Nadu; from Pushkar, Cochin, and Konark; warrior caste, Brahmin, and untouchable; Hindi, Muslim, Christian, Buddhist, Jain, Parsee, Animist; fair skin and dark, green eyes and golden brown and black; every different face and form of that extravagant variety, that incoparable beauty, India.”

LoveBeautifulHateHopeSleepSweetHumanAwakeColourSweatCityShantaramEmpireMumbaiSmell Sea
Book:Shantaram
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