Misericordia

A one wonderful story, twisted of the plethora of entangled stories. I love this book, it leaves a an incredibly warm afterfeeling to the reader. It enamours you with this fantastic tale.

Invokes such vivid imagery that it's almost painful to read. An excruciating fairy tale exploring the gossamer of tears and bliss, of fears and hopes. The lore and the subconcious are entangled to create a memorable exploration of a soul's journey through eternity.

Q:
The only way I was able to survive that shitty world was to imagine better ones, so I read everything I could get my hands on.
(c)
Q:
When the mother became savage-eyed and withdrawn, the young girl would come to cry fearfully in my tiny room, anticipating an impending sale. Last I heard, her mother had cleaned up, lost addiction, and found God. Last I heard, the girl (now adult) was a pregnant heroin addict.
(c)
Q:
My “miraculous survival” will not change my opinion that Heaven is an idea constructed by man to help him cope with the fact that life on earth is both brutally short and, paradoxically, far too long.
(c)
Q:
I can state this with authority: nothing compares with deciding to die. I had an excellent plan and it made me smile. It made me drift more lightly on my air flotation bed.
(c)
Q:
In those days, you must understand, children were basically thought to be inadequate adults. A child’s nature was not something that could be developed, because character was set at birth; childhood was a period of revelation, not development, so when my language abilities appeared they were thought to have always existed, placed there by God, waiting to be made known.
(c)
Q:
I tried to imagine being so thoroughly devoted that I would die for someone else; I, who found it difficult enough to imagine living for myself.
(c)
Q:
It’s a strange but consistent trait of people who consider themselves unattractive. They look embarrassed if you suggest that they might be interested in someone; because they feel unworthy of receiving attention, they also deny that they would dare to give it.
(c)
Q:
If anything, I am an equal opportunity misanthropist.
(c)
Q:
No wonder Marianne Engel lived next to a graveyard: who but the dead could put up with her?
(c)
Q:
“Do you know what the best part of that swim was?”
“No.”
“Knowing that you were on the shore waiting for me.”
(c)
Q:
Belief in a better future is an amazing gift.
(c)
Q:
The Archangel turned towards us. Francesco lowered his head and made the sign of the cross. I kept my head up, my eyes focused. Unlike Francesco, because I had never longed to see the divine, I was not burdened with the fear of what might happen if I did.
Michael smiled.
I realized then, for the first time, that I was not hallucinating. I was indeed in Hell, and I was indeed in the presence of the Divine. It was beyond all doubt: I am far too human to imagine anything like that smile. It was like a kiss upon all my worst secrets, absolving them straight away.
(c)
Q:
“I spent my entire life waiting for you, Marianne, and I didn’t even know it until you arrived. Being burned was the best thing that ever happened to me because it brought you. I wanted to die but you filled me with so much love that it overflowed and I couldn’t help but love you back. It happened before I even knew it and now I can’t imagine not loving you. You have said that it takes so much for me to believe anything, but I do believe. I believe in your love for me. I believe in my love for you. I believe that every remaining beat of my heart belongs to you, and I believe that when I finally leave this world, my last breath will carry your name. I believe that my final word-Marianne-will be all I need to know that my life was good and full and worthy, and I believe that our love will last forever.”
(c)
Q:
“You are mine, I am yours; you may be sure of this. You’ve been locked inside my heart, the key has been thrown away; within it, you must always stay.”
(c)