The best Quotes from Night Train to Lisbon

The best Quotes from Night Train to Lisbon

Night Train to Lisbon is a philosophical novel by Swiss writer Pascal Mercier.

We leave something of ourselves behind when we leave a place, we stay there, even though we go away. And there are things in us that we can find again only by going back there.
That words could cause something in the world, make someone move or stop, laugh or cry: even as a child he had found it extraordinary and it never stopped impressing him. How did words do that? Wasn't it like magic?
What is it that we call loneliness. It can't simply be the absence of others, you can be alone and not lonely, and you can be among people and yet be lonely. So what is it? ... it isn't only that others are there, that they fill up the space next to us. But even when they celebrate us or give advice in a friendly conversation, clever, sensitive advice: even then we can be lonely. So loneliness is not something simply connected with the presence of others or with what they do. Then what? What on earth?
Given that we can live only a small part of what there is in us - what happens with the rest?
How would it be after the last sentence? The last sentence he had always feared and from the middle of a book, he had always been tormented by the thought that there would inevitably be a last sentence.
But when we set out to understand somebody’s inside? Is that a trip that ever ends? Is the soul a place of facts? Or are the alleged facts only the deceptive shadows of our stories?
What did i know of your fantasies? Why do we know so little about the fantasies of our parents? What do we know of somebody if we know nothing of the images passed to him by his imagination?
When we talk about ourselves, about others, or simply about things, we want- it could be said – to reveal ourselves in our words: We want to show what we think and feel. We let other have a glimpse into our soul.
I love tunnels. They're the symbol of hope: sometime it will be bright again. If by chance it is not night.
Isn't it true that it's not people who meet, but rather the shadows cast by their imaginations?
To live for the moment: it sounds so right and so beautiful. But the more I want to, the less I understand what it means.
It wasn't only that you didn't see him anymore, meet him anymore. You saw his absence and encountered it as something tangible. His not being there was like the sharply outlined emptiness of a photo with a figure cut out precisely with scissors and now the missing figure is more important, more dominant than all others.
Life is not what we live; it is what we imagine we are living.
A feeling is no longer the same when it comes the second time. It dies through the awareness of its return. We become tired and weary of our feelings when they come too often and last too long.
Human beings can't bear silence. It would mean that they would bear themselves.
In the years afterward, I fled whenever somebody began to understand me. That has subsided. But one thing remained: I don't want anybody to understand me completely. I want to go through life unknown. The blindness of others is my safety and my freedom.
To understand yourself: Is that a discovery or a creation?

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You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us? You think we don’t recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself plainly when you have need of him.
Never say goodbye, because goodbye means going away - and going away means forgetting.
Words are, in my not so humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic, capable of both inflicting injury and remedying it.
Real loneliness is not necessarily limited to when you are alone.
If you stop to think about it, you’ll have to admit that all the stories in the world consist essentially of twenty-six letters. The letters are always the same, only the arrangement varies. From letters words are formed, from words sentences, from sentences chapters, and from chapters stories.
Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?
I was happy before I met him. But I'm alive now, and those are not the same thing.

Related pages to Night Train to Lisbon

Pascal MercierMemoriesFarewell & GoodbyeWordsSolitude & LonelinessSentencesImaginationMeeting PeopleSilenceThe best Book QuotesBook-Quotes