Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Gerald Durrell

Quote by Gerald Durrell

“Ah, you may sit under them, yes. They cast a good shadow, cold as well-water; but that's the trouble, they tempt you to sleep. And you must never, for any reason, sleep beneath a cypress.' He paused, stroked his moustache, waited for me to ask why, and then went on: 'Why? Why? Because if you did you would be changed when you woke. Yes, the black cypresses, they are dangerous. While you sleep, their roots grow into your brains and steal them, and when you wake up you are mad, head as empty as a whistle.' I asked whether it was only the cypress that could do that or did it apply to other trees. 'No, only the cypress,' said the old man, peering up fiercely at the trees above me as though to see whether they were listening; 'only the cypress is the thief of intelligence. So be warned, little lord, and don't sleep here.”

Quote by Gerald Durrell

Work

My Family and Other Animals

This book is a charming and witty account of the author's upbringing in a family of naturalists, set against the backdrop of the picturesque island of Corfu. The narrative is filled with anecdotes of the author's adventures with his siblings, parents, and the abundant wildlife of the island, offering a unique perspective on the natural world and the human condition. more

Author

Gerald Durrell
Gerald Durrell

Gerald Durrell was a British zookeeper, naturalist, and author, born on January 7, 1925, and died on January 30, 1995. He is best known for his series of books about his childhood in Corfu, Greece, and for his work in conservation and the establishment of wildlife reserves. more

You May Also Like

“The Daffodil-Yellow Villa The new villa was enormous, a tall, square Venetian mansion, with faded daffodil-yellow walls, green shutters, and a fox-red roof. It stood on a hill overlooking the sea, surrounded by unkempt olive groves and silent orchards of lemon and orange trees. ... the little walled and sunken garden that ran along one side of the house, its wrought-iron gates scabby with rust, had roses, anemones and geraniums sprawling across the weed-grown paths ... ... there were fifteen acres of garden to explore, a vast new paradise sloping down to the shallow, tepid sea.”