"In July 2013, Oliver Sacks turned eighty and wrote [a] ... piece in The New York Times about the prospect of old age and the freedom he envisioned for himself in binding together the thoughts and feelings of a lifetime. Eighteen months later, he was given a diagnosis of terminal cancer--which he announced publically in another piece in The New York Times. Gratitude is Sacks's meditation on why life [continued] to enthrall him even as he [faced] the all-too-close presence of his own death, and how to live out the months that [remained] in the richest and deepest way possible"--
"There will be no one like us when we are gone, but then there is no one like anyone else, ever. When people die, they cannot be replaced. They leave holes that cannot be filled, for it is the fate—the genetic and neural fate—of every human being to be a unique individual, to find his own path, to live his own life, to die his own death."
For en fin liten bok, om aldring og død og om et liv vel levd. Selvbiografi fra en velskrivende mann.
Short book containing 4 essays from Sacks after he learned he had terminal cancer. Absolutely wonderful, hopeful, joyous celebrations of life.
I listened to the audiobook on a morning run, and it was the perfect companion. Will doubtlessly revisit this again
Four short and crisp essays on the thrill of living and facing death with dignity. The final essay Sabbath poignantly raises questions of what could have been if people did not use religions to shield their fear and intolerance.
Unobjectionable, crisp and lucid thoughts by a dying 82 year old of narrative renown, but not very profound or meaty, no surprise for four short essays from the NYT. Perhaps the acceptance of death, a life well-lived, is profound in itself: he certainly seems at peace.
