We burned with love for ourselves, all of us, starters of the fire we suffered- our love was the affliction for which only our love was the cure.
Mom said, "His spirit is there," and that made me really angry. I told her, "Dad didn't have a spirit! He had cells!" "His memory is there." "His memory is here," I said, pointing at my head. "Dad had a spirit," she said, like she was rewinding a bit in our conversation. I told her, "He had cells, and now they're on rooftops, and in the river, and in the lungs of millions of people around New York, who breathe him every time they speak!
Interpretation
What this quote means
This quote explores the tension between physical existence and emotional memory after death.
In this dialogue, the speaker grapples with the concepts of spirit and physical reality following the loss of a loved one. While the mother believes in the persistence of the father's spirit and memory, the speaker emphasizes the tangible aspects of his existence, conveying frustration with abstract notions of memory that don't align with his understanding of life and death. This highlights a conflict between the emotional ties to a person and the biological remnants they leave behind, raising profound questions about existence and remembrance.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
In a speech at a memorial service to illustrate the lasting impact of loved ones.
More from Jonathan Safran Foer
All quotes →Memory was supposed to fill the time, but it made time a hole to be filled. Each second was two hundred yards, to be walked, crawled. You couldn't see the next hour, it was so far in the distance. Tomorrow was over the horizon, and would take an entire day to reach.
She was not crying Which surprised me very much But I understand now That she had found places For her melancholy That were behind more masks Than only her eyes
What do babies dream of? She must be dreaming of the before-life, just as I dream of the afterlife.
A few weeks after the worst day, I started writing lots of letters. I don't know why, but it was one of the only things that made my boots lighter.
What is being awake if not interpreting our dreams, or dreaming if not interpreting our wake?
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Then it was as if I suddenly saw the secret beauty of their hearts, the depths of their hearts where neither sin nor desire nor self-knowledge can reach, the core of their reality, the person that each one is in God's eyes. If only they could see themselves as they really are. If only we could see each other that way all the time, there would be no more war, no more hatred, no more cruelty, no more greed . . . I suppose the big problem would be that we would fall down and worship each other.
He who climbs above the cares of this world, and turns his face to his God, has found the sunny side of life.