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Quote by Sheila Heti

“She had thought that when someone died, it would be like they went into a different room. She had not known that life itself transformed itself into into a different room, and trapped you in it without them.”

Quote by Sheila Heti

Work

Pure Colour

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Author

Sheila Heti
Sheila Heti

Sheila Heti is a Canadian writer born on December 25, 1976. Her works are known for their unique narrative style and profound self-reflection. more

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“I went outside. The rain had stopped. The air, washed by the rain, was serene, and the waves sounded closer than usual. The full moon shone like a pearl in the night sky. The moonlight made it look as if all the houses had sunk to the bottom of a lake. The road stretched ahead, white. It was the road that led to Migitahama. A gust of wind and the petals from a wild cherry tree went dancing, white against the darkness, and I remembered then that the cherry trees here blossomed two or three weeks later than in Tokyo. The waves roared. I stood alone in the darkness. Light does not illuminate. It only looks for things to illuminate. And I had never been found by the light. I would always be in darkness—”

“The loss of a mother is a partial loss of the self. It was for me. Her death cast me adrift, for she took with her her memory, both spoken and untold. She took all she might have divulged about herself, about me, for from the moment she passed, from the moment I watched her face soften and ease as she took death's hand. . . .a myriad of questions I might have asked descended on me like a sudden sleeve of rain. With her went all that possibility.”

“The mean-spirited, unpredictable cancer beast had changed all of our lives. There were unspoken details of our life before cancer. Now, only the stark reality of life after cancer remained. I was acutely aware that, regardless of the treatment’s outcome, we were bound in a race against time. A relentless clock, damnably ticking away, measured the fleeting seconds of Xuan’s life. Its insistent rhythm served as a re- minder of our finite journey. Though it may have momentarily paused, the clock would invariably resume its steady wind down toward zero.”

“वह बारिश के ही दिन थे जब मां नहीं रही थी । तब पूरा घर काटने को दौड़ता रहता था । मैं और मेरे पिता के बीच से मानो सारा सामान्य किसी ने उधेड़ दिया था । हम दोनों उधड़े स्वेटर से पूरे घर में बिखरे पड़े रहते । मैं उनके लिए क्या करूं और वो मेरे लिए क्या करें में हम दोनों एक-दूसरे को ताकते रहते ।”