Psychiatry in this place is like serving an in-flight meal in the middle of a plane crash. If I wanted to make you well, as a doctor, I should be giving you a parachute, not a cheese-and-pickle sandwich.
Chris CleaveRead
Still shaking, in the pew, I understood that it isn't the dead we cry for. We cry for ourselves, and I didn't deserve my own pity.
Interpretation
The quote reflects on the nature of grief, suggesting that we often mourn not for those who have passed, but for our own loss and pain.
Chris Cleave's quote delves into the complex emotions surrounding grief and loss. It suggests that when we cry for the dead, we are ultimately expressing our own sorrow and self-pity rather than honoring the deceased. This realization can lead to a deeper understanding of our own vulnerabilities and the need for self-acceptance, as it acknowledges that it is our own feelings of loss and regret that manifest in our mourning.
In practice
In a eulogy at a memorial service, to highlight the personal nature of grief.
Psychiatry in this place is like serving an in-flight meal in the middle of a plane crash. If I wanted to make you well, as a doctor, I should be giving you a parachute, not a cheese-and-pickle sandwich.
Even for a girl like me, then, there comes a day when she can stop surviving and start living. To survive, you have to look good or talk good. But to end your story well-- here is the truth-- you have to talk yourself out of it.
Death, of course, is a refuge. It's where you go when a new name, or a mask and cape, can no longer hide you from yourself. It's where you run to when none of the principalities of your conscience will grant you asylum.
Is it my fault if I do not look like an English girl and I do not talk like a Nigerian? Well, who says an English girl must have skin as pale as the clouds that float across her summers? Who says a Nigerian girl must speak in fallen English...?
So when I say that I am a refugee, you must understand that there is no refuge.
So for a good old-gentlemanly vice, I think I must take up with avarice.
Confusion heard his voice, and wild uproar Stood ruled, stood vast infinitude confined; Till at his second bidding darkness fled, Light shone, and order from disorder sprung.
A country that demands moral perfection in its foreign policy will achieve neither perfection nor security.
But Nature cast me for the part she found me best fitted for, and I have had to play it, and must play it till the curtain falls.
Islam is based on naql (texts) and βaql (intellect). Some people just have the texts β we call them naql-heads.
It strikes me as unfair, and even in bad taste, to select a few of them for boundless admiration, attributing superhuman powers of mind and character to them. This has been my fate, and the contrast between the popular estimate of my powers and achievements and the reality is simply grotesque.
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