I went to temple at crowded times when Brahmins were too distracted to come between me and God.
Like punk rock, like Jackson Pollock, like Jack Kerouac, it was truly human, a mix of perfect beauty and cathartic error.
Things didn’t turn out the way they were suppsed to, but qhat can you do? You must take life the way it comes at you and make the best of it.
I’ll be honest about it. It is not atheists who get stuck in my craw, but agnostics. Doubt is useful for a while.
Very few castaways can claim to have survived so long at sea as Mr. Patel, and none in the company of an adult Bengal tiger.
Whatever the reason for wanting to escape, sane or insane, zoo detractors should realize that animals don’t escape to somewhere but from something.
I would nearly go into convulsions of dismay at my stupidity.
Without a driver this bus is lost.
To lose a brother is to lose someone with whom you can share the experience of growing old, who is supposed to bring you a sister-in-law and nieces and nephews, creatures to people the tree of your life and give it new branches.
Everything in me, right down to the pores of my skin, was expressing joy.
You must fight hard to shine the light of words upon it. Because if you don’t, if your fear becomes a wordless darkness that you avoid, perhaps even manage to forget, you open yourself to further attacks of fear because you never truly fought the opponent who defeated you.
To look out with idle hope is tantamount to dreaming one’s life away.
It’s not right that gentleness meet horror.
I kept one eye on the horizon, one eye on the other end of the lifeboat.
People move in the hope of a better life.
I don’t believe in religion. Religion is darkness.
Animals are also poisoned. And there are indecencies.
For example – I wonder – could you tell my jumbled story in exactly one hundred chapters, not one more, not one less? I’ll tell you, that’s one thing I hate about my nickname, the way that number runs on forever. It’s important in life to conclude things properly. Only then can you let go.
The obsession with putting ourselves at the centre of everything is the bane not only of theologians but also of zoologists.
How do you live with evil? Art is traditionally – certainly with my secular background – the answer, but art is very self-referential, whereas religion claims to go beyond the bounds of human existence.