I'd rather there wasn't an afterlife, really. I'd much rather not be me for thousands of years.
Interpretation
The quote expresses a preference for the absence of an afterlife, valuing the finite experience of life.
In this quote, William Golding shares a personal reflection on the concept of an afterlife. He implies that the idea of living for eternity, possibly in a state of existence detached from one's current identity, is less appealing than the temporary and finite nature of human life. The quote prompts us to consider the value of our mortal existence versus the idea of an endless existence that may lack the qualities we cherish in our current lives.
In practice
This quote can be used in a discussion about the philosophical implications of mortality during a seminar.
Consider a man riding a bicycle. Whoever he is, we can say three things about him. We know he got on the bicycle and started to move. We know that at some point he will stop and get off. Most important of all, we know that if at any point between the beginning and the end of his journey he stops moving and does not get off the bicycle he will fall off it. That is a metaphor for the journey through life of any living thing, and I think of any society of living things.
The skull regarded Ralph like one who knows all the answers and won't tell.
Maybe, he said hesitantly, maybe there is a beast. The assembly cried out savagely and Ralph stood up in amazement. You, Simon? You believe in this? I don't know, said Simon. His heartbeats were choking him. [...] Ralph shouted. Hear him! He's got the conch! What I mean is . . . maybe it's only us. Nuts! That was from Piggy, shocked out of decorum.
The mask was a thing on it's own, behind which Jack hid, liberated from shame and self-conciousness.
Man produces evil as a bee produces honey.
Utopias are presented for our inspection as a critique of the human state.
Small natures require despotism to exercise their sinews, as great souls thirst for equality to give play to their heart.
Whenever someone refers to me as someone "who happens to be black," I wonder if they realize that both my parents are black. If I had turned out to be Scandinavian or Chinese, people would have wondered what was going on.
Even voting for the right is doing nothing for it. It is only expressing to men feebly your desire that it should prevail. A wise man will not leave the right to the mercy of chance, nor wish it to prevail through the power of the majority. There is but little virtue in the action of masses of men.
The state is the great fictitious entity by which everyone seeks to live at the expense of everyone else.
(The psuedoscience of planning seems almost neurotic in its determination to imitate empiric failure and ignore empiric success.)
All has gone to rest, and I don't know whether I'm alive or will live or whether I'm rushing like this through the world for I'm not longer weeping or laughing
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