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Quote by Chigozie Obioma

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An Orchestra of Minorities

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Chigozie Obioma

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“The rhythm and style of my existence, my loves and hatreds, my alienation and the possibility of my deliverance, the morning blossoming of my birth and the unfigurable horizon of my death, and everything that happens to me in the world must first be announced or prefigured in the elementary phenomena of my immanent life.”

WorldLoveLifeDeathExistenceBirthHatredAlienation
Book:The Ego and the Flesh: An Introduction to Egoanalysis
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“All the stories I’ve told myself, clinging to the putrid mucus, and swelling, swelling, saying, Got it at last, my legend. But why this sudden heat, has anything happened, anything changed? No, the answer is no, l shall never get born and therefore never get dead, and a good job too. And if I tell of me and of that other who is my little one, it is as always for want of love well I’ll be buggered, I wasn’t expecting that, want of a homuncule, I can’t stop. And yet it sometimes seems to me I did get born and had a long life and met Jackson and wandered in the towns, the woods and wildernesses and tarried by the Seas in tears before the islands and peninsulas where night lit the little brief yellow lights of man and all night the great white and coloured beams shining in the caves where I was happy, crouched on the sand in the lee of the rocks with the smell of the seaweed and the wet rock and the howling of the wind the waves whipping me with foam or sighing on the beach softly clawing the shingle, no, not happy, l was never that, but wishing night would never end and morning never come when men wake and say, Come on, we’ll soon be dead, let's make the most of it. But what matter whether I was born or not, have lived or not, am dead or merely dying, I shall go on doing as I have always done, not knowing what it is I do, nor who I am, nor where I am, nor if I am. Yes, a little creature, I shall try and make a little creature, to hold in my arms, a little creature in my image, no matter what I say. And seeing what a poor thing I have made, or how like myself, I shall cat it. Then be alone a long time, unhappy, not knowing what my prayer should be nor to whom.”

LoveDeathNatureFreedomBirth
Book:Malone Dies
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“Birth is as old as humanity itself. That means that simply by being human, you can birth. Your body will grow your baby and birth your baby all without you doing a single thing to make it happen. This isn't to say that certain things won't help it along and make it easier, but even without those things, you will birth. Your body knows how. It is your mindset and the culture that you live in that is the real obstacle to you actually getting a natural birth”

BirthMindsetNatural Birth
Book:Your Empowered Birth: Get The Birth You Want
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“Later, when I process Betty's death with Eileen, the wise volunteer coordinator, she says: "You know, Pete, the Buddhists say: 'A new baby cries when it comes into the world, but everyone else laughs in delight. But everyone cries when a person dies... except the person, who instead laughs in joy at returning home.'" "I've got to tell you, Pete, I've been doing this work for a long time, and every time I'm at a deathbed, I feel mildly envious of the person who has just passed.”

DeathBirthFear Of Death
Book:HOMESTEADING in the CALM EYE of the STORM: A Therapist Navigates His Complex PTSD
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“For him, England has always been a land of fairy tales: a world of pictures, of black-and-white sketches depicting pale, chubby children eating currant buns. A land of fairies and witches, hedgerows and secret gardens, goblins and magical woods. When he arrived he was surprised to find it looked almost exactly as it did in the stories. The trees, the meadows, the little brick houses. He had not come to a real country, but a story come to life. Every day, then, he woke to a fantasy. And no matter how solid and cold and uncomfortable it was, he could never feel it was a country as such, could never quite believe that it had been formed from the same molten stuff that had made his birthplace. England was always secondary, always derivative, always an aftereffect of a story. Perhaps this is why, now, he can decide to leave it.”

LifeTruthFantasyBirthStoryMagicalHomesick
Book:The Other Side of the World
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