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Quote by Alexis Hall

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Mortal Follies

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Alexis Hall

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“Chrisser… Far. Kan du ikke gå lidt langsommere?” Han så ned på hende igen, hun småløb for at følge med ham. Han stoppede op. “Jo. Hvad med at vi laver et kompromis? Så går jeg lidt langsommere og du går lidt hurtigere?” Hun så tænksomt op på ham. Så nikkede hun. Og han tænkte at allerede nu, var han en bedre far, end hans egen far havde været. Hans far indgik hverken kompromiser eller holdt i hånden. Oplivet af den tanke rankede han ryggen og styrede dem i retning af supermarkedet. Han bemærkede ikke, at hun igen måtte småløbe for at holde trit med ham.”

ParentsFarForældre
Book:Afslutninger
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“Think some more about the very young child. First of all, her faith that she is loved is not something that she works out by assessing her world and coming to a conclusion. It is something given, taken for granted (in the literal sense). Indeed, if it is not granted, if she is deprived of the belief that she is loved, she will not even be able to assess her world at all. She will go more or less crazy. The child doesn't arrive at or achieve her belief that she is loved. It is a precious gift which is just there, like the gift of life itself. But it can, of course, be destroyed. It is notoriously possible for adults, and especially parents, to erode a child's faith, to leave the child insecure and uncertain that she is loved, uncertain therefore of her own value, uncertain that she matters. The love of parents, and later of other friends may fail; they may betray us. Indeed, I think we have a whole society (known as the Free World) which is so structured as to destroy belief in love, to eat away at the confidence people have in each other, to replace friendship by competitiveness, generosity by domination and submission, community by national security, love by fear.”

LoveFaithSocietyChildhoodDivineParents
Book:Faith Within Reason
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“What I mean to say is, we had been considerable. Had been loved. Not lonely, not lost, not freakish, but wise, each in his or her own way. Our departures caused pain. Those who had loved us sat upon their beds, heads in hand; lowered their faces to tabletops, making animal noises. We had been loved, I say, and remembering us, even many years later, people would smile, briefly gladdened at the memory.”

DeathLossGrief
Book:Lincoln in the Bardo
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