Every island to a child is a treasure island.
The world of the terminally ill is the world of neither the living nor the dead. I have watched others since I watched my father, and always with a sense of their strangeness. They sit and speak, and are spoken to, and listen, and even smile, but in spirit they have already moved away from us and there is no way we can enter their shadowy no-man’s-land.
Interpretation
What this quote means
This quote reflects on the unique and isolating experience of those who are terminally ill, highlighting their emotional detachment from the living.
P. D. James's quote delves into the profound isolation that terminally ill individuals experience as they approach the end of life. It suggests that, although they may engage with their surroundings and communicate with loved ones, their emotional and spiritual essence is already detached, creating a barrier that separates them from the world of the living. This separation evokes a sense of strangeness and sorrow in those who witness it, as they feel unable to connect with someone who is physically present but emotionally distant.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
This quote can be shared during a discussion about the emotional complexities of facing terminal illness.
More from P. D. James
All quotes →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.
Similar quotes
The traveling salesmen fed me pills that made the lining of my veins feel scraped out, my jaw ached... I knew every raindrop by its name, I sensed everything before it happened. Like I knew a certain oldsmobile would stop even before it slowed, and by the sweet voices of the family inside, I knew we'd have an accident in the rain. I didn't care. They said they'd take me all the way.
Early evening traffic was beginning to clog the avenue with cars. The sun slanted down behind him. Harry glanced at the drivers of the cars. They seemed unhappy. The world was unhappy. People were in the dark. People were terrified and disappointed. People were caught in traps. People were defensive and frantic. They felt as if their lives were being wasted. And they were right.
To live lightheartedly but not recklessly; to be gay without being boisterous; to be courageous without being bold; to show trust and cheerful resignation without fatalism - this is the art of living.
Hope may be the thing that pulls you forward, may be the thing that keeps you going, but that it's dangerous, that it's painful and risky, that it's making a dare in the world and when has the world ever let us win a dare?
I realized that very young - that a life where you don't live to your full potential, or you don't experiment, or you're afraid, or you hesitate, or there are things you know you should do but you just don't get around to them, is a life that I'd be miserable living, and the only way to feel that I'm on the right path is just to be true to myself, whatever that may be, and that tends to come with stepping out of something that's maybe safe or traditional.
I thought my song was beginning that day, but it was almost done.