Every island to a child is a treasure island.
P. D. JamesRead
Early this morning, 1 January 2021, three minutes after midnight, the last human being to be born on earth was killed in a pub brawl in a suburb of Buenos Aires, aged twenty-five years, two months and twelve days.
Interpretation
This quote reflects on the finality of human existence and the fragility of life.
P. D. James' quote encapsulates the shock and poignancy of life ending unexpectedly, suggesting that the last human's life was abruptly cut short in a moment of violence. It brings to light not just the singularity of this event but also invites deeper contemplation about the nature of existence, the transient nature of life, and the realities of mortality amidst societal conflicts.
In practice
In a discussion about the unpredictability of life at a book club.
Every island to a child is a treasure island.
If from infancy you treat children as gods, they are liable in adulthood to act as devils.
I believe that political correctness can be a form of linguistic fascism, and it sends shivers down the spine of my generation who went to war against fascism.
What a child doesn't receive he can seldom later give.
Open your mind to new experiences, particularly to the study of other people. Nothing that happens to a writer – however happy, however tragic – is ever wasted.
It was one of those perfect English autumnal days which occur more frequently in memory than in life.
The U.S. should worry about the effects of its polices on the rest of the world. We would like to live in a world where countries take into account the effect of their policies on other countries and do what is right, broadly, rather than what is just right given the circumstances of that country.
The belief that there is only one truth, and that oneself is in possession of it, is the root of all evil in the world.
We poison the wine as He decants it into us; murder a melody He would play with us as the instrument...Hence all sin, whatever else it is, is sacrilege.
Sob, heavy world Sob as you spin, Mantled in mist Remote from the happy.
Hinduism is a living organism. One and indivisible at the root, it has grown into a vast tree with innumerable branches. Knowledge is limitless and so also the application of truth. Everyday we add to our knowledge of the power of Atman (soul) and we shall keep on doing so.
Strangely enough, they have a mind to till the soil, and the love of possessions is a disease in them.
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