Questions Left Unanswered Quotes

I got back in my car, starting the engine, then drove off. It wasn't until I pulled onto the highway that it all really sunk it, how temporary our friendship had been. We'd been on our breaks, after all, but it wasn't our relationships that were on pause: it was us. Now we were both in motion again, moving ahead. So what if there were questions left unanswered. Life went on. We knew that better than anyone.

Lack of communication has a way of clipping our wings, which keeps us from flying. When things are left unspoken, we forget that everyone is destined to share the sky together.

One could argue that there exist certain questions that are best left unanswered.

I don't like coming home. It keeps me from being nostalgic, which by nature I am. Even before the plane begins its descent, I find myself dreading the questions left unanswered by my childhood.

Now we were both in motion again, moving ahead. So what if there were questions left unanswered. Life went on. We knew that better than anyone.

Sometimes our questions are better left unanswered.

The more you believe, the more you doubt. The more you doubt, the more you ask questions. Knowing that questions left unanswered is the best proof for your belief.

There was a message written in pencil on the tiles by the roller towel. This was it: What is the purpose of life? Trout plundered his pockets for a pen or pencil. He had an answer to the question. But he had nothing to write with, not even a burnt match. So he left the question unanswered, but here is what he would have written, if he had found anything to write with: To be the eyes and ears and conscience of the Creator of the Universe, you fool.

I imagined all the questions I had being sucked out of the air and into the vacuum. I put the full bag in the trash outside. Left my unanswered questions there too.

Perhaps all South Africans need to embrace the mirror of yesteryear, and fear it not, for it holds the answers to the questions that we seek today. Questions that, if left unanswered, will still be asked by generations yet to come.

Too many questions had been left unanswered. Every day there were new rumours saying that the Kamari numbers were growing. Nick wondered why so many people were joining them.

Today, my faith has been replaced with questions. I love the way unanswered cosmic questions leave open all possibilities. The universe spreads out in three inscrutable, wondrous dimensions.

One day she asked the hare why he had come to her, of all people. 'Some questions,' he replied 'are better left unanswered. A there will come a time wen you will have need of me. Then yo will know.

One day she asked the hare why he had come to her, of all people. 'Some questions,' he replied 'are better left unanswered. And there will come a time when you will have need of me. Then you will know.

I had wanted to become a novelist before I even knew how to read, back when I could only consume books by having them read to me, and none of them seemed long enough. They left too many questions unanswered, too many ramifications unexplored.

They left too many questions unanswered, too many ramifications unexplored. My parents told me that I was expecting too much from Frog and Toad Are Friends: it wasn’t a novel. In that way, I understood that a novel would explain all the things I still wanted to know,

The most extreme novelty seekers-the greatest among the Gatsbys-seemed virtually addicted to stimulation and excitement. Scores aside, even their test-taking behavior was temperamental. They left questions unanswered. They paced the room, trying to look for ways to get out. They were frequently, hopelessly, maddeningly bored.

I was an idiot,” were my mother’s last words. I’ll never know what she meant because I wasn't there when she died. I am left with unanswered questions while I grieve for a woman I had barely spoken to during the last six months of her life. In fact, by the time I found out she had six months to live we’d been estranged for almost a year.

Whether Sapiens are to blame or not, no sooner had they arrived at a new location than the native population became extinct. The last remains of Homo soloensis are dated to about 50,000 years ago. Homo denisova disappeared shortly thereafter. Neanderthals made their exit roughly 30,000 years ago. The last dwarf-like humans vanished from Flores Island about 12,000 years ago. They left behind some bones, stone tools, a few genes in our DNA and a lot of unanswered questions. They also left behind us, Homo sapiens, the last human species.

I had wanted to be become a novelist before I even knew how to read, back when I could only consume books by having them read to me, and none of them seemed long enough. They left too many questions unanswered, too many ramifications unexplored. My parents told me I was expecting too much from Frog and Toad are Friends: it wasn't a novel. In that way, I understood that a novel would explain all the things I still wanted to know, like why Toad was the way he was--why Toad is essentially unwell, and why Frog helped Toad, whether he really wanted Toad to get better, or whether he benefited in some way from Toad's unwellness.

I had wanted to become a novelist before I even knew how to read, back when I could only consume books by having them read to me, and none of them seemed long enough. They left too many questions unanswered, too many ramifications unexplored. My parents told me that I was expecting too much from Frog and Toad Are Friends: it wasn’t a novel. In that way, I understood that a novel would explain all the things I still wanted to know, like why Toad was the way he was—why Toad was essentially unwell, and why Frog helped Toad, whether he really wanted Toad to get better, or whether he benefited in some way from Toad’s unwellness. I understood that novels, unlike children’s books, were serious and important and that, just as my parents’ job was to treat patients in a hospital, so, too, was it someone’s job to write novels.

By the time that paper appeared, the SARS epidemic of 2003 had been stopped, with the final toll at 8,098 people infected, of whom 774 died. The last case was detected and isolated in Taiwan on June 15. Hong Kong had been declared “SARS-free.” Singapore and Canada had been declared “SARS-free.” The whole world was supposedly “SARS-free.” What those declarations meant, more precisely, was that no SARS infections were currently raging in humans. But the virus hadn’t been eradicated. This was a zoonosis, and no disease scientist could doubt that its causal agent still lurked within one or more reservoir hosts—the palm civet, the raccoon dog, or whatever—in Guangdong and maybe elsewhere too. People celebrated the end of the outbreak, but those best informed celebrated most guardedly. SARS-CoV wasn’t gone, it was only hiding. It could return. In late December, it did. Like an aftershock to a quake, a new case broke in Guangdong. Soon afterward, three more. One patient was a waitress who had been exposed to a civet. On January 5, 2004, the day the first case was confirmed, Guangdong authorities reversed policy again, ordering the death and disposal of every masked palm civet held at a farm or a market in the province. Wild civets were another question, left unanswered.

I've been meaning to ask," Breckenridge said, "jus how you came to topple backward off that rail." He looked at her. "What with one thing and another, the point slipped my mind." Heather met his gaze. "Mine, too." he read her eyes, then, brows rising, looked in the direction in which the twins had gone. "Ah. Perhaps that's one of those questions that are better off left unasked." "It's certainly one of those better left unanswered." Sliding her hand from his and retaking his arm, she started them strolling again. Breckenridge was quiet for a while, then he looked up at the manor and said, "Will you think it odd of me to suggest that we should, perhaps, leave the Vale and your sometimes unnerving relatives by marriage as soon as we possibl can?" "How about tomorrow?" She glanced up at his face. He caught her gaze. "Immediately after breakfast. It's too late to set out today." She nodded. "Indeed." She looked ahead. "And besides I have plans for tonight." "Do you?" "Of course." She met his gaze, her own filled with love and unexpected understanding. "The announcement you made a few minutes ago deserves and appropriate response, don't you think?" He inclined his head. "Indubitably." After a moment, he added, "Who knows? With the right form of response, you might even induce me to utter the words again." She laughed. "A challenge." She met his gaze. "A challenge we can wrestle with, wrestle over back and forth, for the rest of our days." "Indeed." He held her loving gaze, raised her fingers to his lips. "For the rest of our days.

If YOUR free READ it calmly. This to all my FOLKS and MYSELF our expectations, our needs, our dreams, our destiny, our life style, Our likes and dislikes. we always RUN around so many things without even THINKING. Have a look on our SATISFACTION list # new gadget or a mobile for example fun for 2 months? # New bike fun for "2 months" . # New car for "3"? # Getting into a relationship wantedly as we are alone max 3/4 months? # Revenge ? A weak? Month? # flirting ? 2/3 months # sex ? Few mins # boozing, joint or a fag? Few hours? # addicting to something leaving behind everything? One year? # your example of anything repeatedly done for satisfaction? Max? Get a number yourself! ¦¦¦ Even though we satisfy our soul by all the above. Passing day by day. Years passed. Yet left with the same IRRITATING feeling to satisfy our needs. ONE after ANOTHER . ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ Some day we realize it was " pure SELFISH satisfaction " and left with a "GUILT " and EMPTINESS . questioning LIFE ! ¦¦¦ "In the RAMPAGE of getting everything we wished. We might not realize what we MISSED . Being CARELESS of our surrounding." "Feelings left hurt and hearts broken. Family friends and people we cares and who cares us. PRIORITIES made by ourself to be satisfied even here." If LIFE was just to satisfy what ever we WISHED for. Was it A life worth lived? May be! Yes. But it's SURE you end up questioning life with BLACKNESS ! # So many questions unanswered. Our EXISTENCE ? Our DESTINY ? To question the existence of God and HEAVEN .? At Last questioning the existence of UNIVERSE itself? The whole system CRACKS a nerve! Why spoil our LIFE when we are the creators of our LIFE ! When we are capable of finding an answer to does questions by our self Finding that true meaning of LIFE beyond all the mess we live by daily. which is Going to satisfy us. We need to realize by now our Every action should lead to Happiness and satisfaction of the people around us. It's the real paradise feeling we all wish for. The real deal. We disrupt our LIFE in the rampage of getting everything we need which can automatically be provided by LIFE . When we start sacrificing our LIFE in a positive way being busy fulfilling the needs of our dears ones. They indeed be busy trying to fulfill our needs and wishes. It's giving some things and getting something back. With less expectations. Rather than grabbing. A SECRET for a PERFECT LIFE which we FAIL to live by. Starting from FORGIVING everyone who tumbles in our path trying to steal away our positive life and happiness. Because as we all are tamed to do MISTAKE at some point. There is not much TIME left to waste by hating and cursing LIFE when we can start LIVING right now. "A REMINDER just to make sure we try to be SELFLESS and find that UNMATCHED HAPPINESS and SATISFACTION ." ~~¦¦ LIFE is complex to understand yet so SIMPLE ¦¦ ¶¶ Never be in a hurry on GETTING on to something you might be left with NOTHING ¶¶ << Being SELFISH makes us a HEALTHY human but being SELFLESS makes you A HUMAN >> «« LIFE is meaningful when we forget about our THIRST and QUENCH the thirst of OTHERS .»» RETHINK AND REDEFINE LIFE ¶¶ ~ Sharath kumar G .

As the years go by and I grow older, I feel compelled to record my experiences in wartime Germany. It is important that my children, grandchildren and future generations know about the difficult times we all endured and of the horrors that existed in Nazi Germany during the Second World War. Due to my advanced age and present condition, I am aware of the urgency to document my memories. If I fail in this, I will fail those who follow me, for they will never know!” Adeline Perry This book had its origin many years ago when Adeline Perry tried to recount her experiences and found that she would become overcome by her emotions every time she tried. The horrors and trials that she had experienced, plus the responsibility of raising her two daughters proved to be overwhelming. It was not until the twilight of her life when her daughters gently persuaded her to try again so that future generations might hear and perhaps learn from her experiences. In fact a good portion of these manuscripts were written while she was in the care of Hospice and only now survive because of immense personal strength and devotion to her family and the desire that what had happened to her would never happen again. Her daughter, and my wife, Ursula can take a great deal of pride in the effort it took to make these manuscripts a reality. After Adeline’s passing I had the privilege to develop the book Suppressed I Rise. Staying true to her story I gave her the authorship of the first edition of this book, which adhered to, and did not exceed what she had left in her original manuscripts. This book which was printed in limited numbers became an instant success and deserved more exposure. Readers also felt that there were questions that went unanswered requiring a follow-up. How did Adeline justify going to Germany prior to World War II? What happened to her marriage to Richard and how did she resume her own life, as a single mother, when she returned to South Africa! With additional reflections by her daughters Brigitte Grigsby and Ursula Bracker, and travel to the areas discussed in Suppressed I Rise, I expanded the book to include the prewar years. I also corrected minor contradictions and factual discrepancies that were inadvertently caused by the passage of time. Talking to people in Germany I confirmed some of what had happened including the hanging of the Russian prisoner of war. The book has now become a powerful example of not only personal courage but also of human tragedy. It is a book that I am proud to have written and share in the concept that it was a story that had to be told.

You didn’t have to keep watch all night,” I said. “I wasn’t going to run away, you know.” “We don’t know,” Castor said. “We know nothing about you anymore, Helen. What in the name of all-seeing Apollo were you thinking, coming on this voyage, pretending to be a boy, doing something this--this--” He threw his hands up in frustration and blurted, “You must be as crazy as Herakles!” “Little sister, you could have died.” Polydeuces could hardly get the words out. “All of those days at sea, all the dangers, the raiders in Thrace, the bandits of the Clashing Rocks, even a simple misstep, like the one that killed poor Hylas--” His voice broke. He drew a ragged breath and added, “Why, Helen?” If I answered, would they understand? Their lives were always their own. They never had to fight for their liberty. When Jason came to Delphi seeking heroes, they joined his crew without asking anyone’s permission. No one demanded that they justify their choices. If you asked them why they had so much freedom, they’d react as if you wanted to know why the sky is blue. I’d be queen of Sparta one day. I’d marry because it would be my duty to have children and provide the land with its next ruler. If I was lucky, I’d choose my husband wisely and we’d love one another. But between You must do this because you’re a princess and You must never do that because you’re a girl, there was no time left for Do what you like, because you’re Helen. This quest, this adventure, might be my only chance to see what it meant to be myself. What would my brothers say if I told them that? “Don’t call me ‘Helen,’” I said firmly, brushing Polydeuces’ question aside unanswered. “Helen of Sparta wouldn’t be on this ship. I’m Atalanta.” “I was wrong. You’re crazier than Herakles,” Castor said.

We were going to see where a relationship between us could go, but that still left so many questions unanswered. The most crucial on my mind was whether I could share my past with him. If telling him the truth would remove the main obstacle between us, would it be so terrible to tell him? What would be the worst that would happen? He’d reject me, and I’d be no worse off than if I had walked away on my own. I didn’t like the prospect, but it wasn’t so terrible as it had seemed a week before. Filip was adamant about his feelings for me. The least I could do was trust him with the truth and give him the opportunity to respond without making my own assumptions. I didn’t think he’d outright reject me; that wasn’t the heart of my fear. I worried he’d think I was damaged, and I couldn’t stand for him to coddle me. I didn’t want to see my past reflected in his eyes every time he looked at me.

We lay on our backs on hot sand and baked in the sun. Salt-crusted, preserved. Later, in the darkness of the green dome I felt his hand brush against my thigh, and with it the same electric pulse of need there had always been. Silence descended; everything stopped; I didn’t move, afraid to ignite a want that wouldn’t be satisfied, or lose a hope I’d held on to forever. He hesitated for a long moment, his hand stretching hot against my cold skin, a moment that hung between us in an unanswered question. Days passed. Clouds moved in from the south-west, white rolling cumuli disappearing inland. Winds changed direction: damp and light from the west; dry and cooling from the east; colder from the north-west, carrying hints of another season soon behind; then gently from the south, summer not quite yet spent. The heat reflected off the flat rocks, less jagged than those that surrounded them in the cove. We dried clothes on them, sat the stove flat on them to cook limpets, cracked an egg on them in the hope that it might fry, but when it didn’t, scraped it up and scrambled it, picking out bits of sand and grit. We lay on them, crisping to leathery brown. Bodies that fourteen months earlier were hunched and tired, soft and pale, were now lean and tanned, with a refound muscularity that we’d thought lost forever. Our hair was fried and falling out, our nails broken, clothes worn to a thread, but we were alive. Not just breathing through the thirty thousand or so days between life and death, but knowing each minute as it passed, swirling around in an exploration of time. The rock gave back the heat as it followed the arc of the sun, gulls called in differing tones as the tide left the shore and then returned, my hands wrinkled with age and my thighs changed to a new shape with passing miles, but when he pulled me to him and kissed me with an urgency that wasn’t in doubt, with a fervour that wouldn’t fail, time turned. I was ten million minutes and nineteen years ago, I was in the bus stop about to go back to his house, knowing his parents weren’t home, I was a mother of toddlers stealing moments in a walk-in wardrobe, we were us, every second of us, a long-marinated stew of life’s ingredients. We were everything we wanted to be and everything we didn’t. And we were free, free to be all those things, and stronger because of them. Skin on longed-for skin, life could wait, time could wait, death could wait. This second in the millions of seconds was the only one, the only one that we could live in. I was home, there was nothing left to search for, he was my home.

Once you are in love, you remain always in love, sometimes fulfilled and most of the times unfulfilled and broken but you remain in love. Beauty of love is to find a way when you feel there is no way to get out of the dark room. I find it more beautiful and accomplished when you are broken but you still remain in love , i find it more astonishing when he/she left you alone but you still accompany him everywhere, I find it more hedonistic when you manage to have a beautiful smile which has struggled through tears.You may say that your beloved has cheated you, your prince charming lied you, your princess sell down the river, though you have done more than that you could do and one question which is even more painful than being slaughtered is WHY SHE/HE DID THIS TO ME which remains always unanswered. This makes your life wretchedness and see who is responsible ....No not your beloved/prince/princess its you only who is in search of something which will make no difference in your life. Let them go if they want to go, if they are happy with someone else, don't beg for the love, let the love come to you automatically.You deserve to be happy, respected and much better in your life. It is difficult to remain in love when someone suddenly disappear from your life but trust me once you understand that you have really loved them, once you understand that their state of being happy is what you always wished for is more important than that they are with you unhappy or betraying you, once you understand that life has always something better for you, once you understand the value of being lively and happy ,,,,,YOU WON'T HATE HER/HIM AGAIN IN LIFE FOR STABBING YOUR BACK ....FORGIVENESS IS THE BEST MEDICINE FOR THE PEACE OF YOUR HEART & DO REMEMBER YOUR HEART DESERVES PEACE NOT THE PIECES. Love is the best thing you can cater to yourself instead of asking from someone else.

Suddenly, a gush of wind seemed to flow through the room. It was more like a sucking of air leaving him breathless, and the air thick and heavy. A new despair came over him, but not from his confusion and unanswered questions. It was more like the answer to all his questions. He felt it deep in his soul. He knew with a clarity he had never known before that Yahweh had departed. He had left Saul, and he was never going to return.

was something different about his genetic structure. His ex-lover Megan Reed had once told him he was a ‘super-compatible’, a rare human anomaly who could accept augs without the yoke of the anti-rejection drug to keep him whole. Jensen was still undecided if that was a gift or a curse, and he couldn’t stop himself from wondering if this unique quality was some loose thread left behind by other unanswered questions from his past. Questions

Vacchogata asked Buddha, “What is the reason Master ,that we should not ponder over them?” “We should not ponder over them because ,such brooding has nothing to do with genuine pure conduct, does not lead to aversion, detachment, extinction, nor to peace, nor to full comprehension, enlightenment and  Nirvana. People those who are accustomed to thinking in these terms, will remain entangled and not attain liberation.  Neither of these views corresponds to the way things really are.   The world does not exist absolutely or does not exist absolutely in time. The world is dependent on causes and conditions i.e. ignorance, craving, and clinging of living beings. Hence the question of the absolute existence or nonexistence of the world is unanswerable. Enlightened person understands that the view which is true in all respects cannot be given any particular description.” Vacchogata was filled with joy, but he still had some more questions left unanswered. “Is it true Master Gautama, that enlightened person like you, ‘exists’ after death?” Buddha remained silent. “Is it true Master Gautama, that enlightened person like you, ‘doesn’t exist’ after death?” “Is it true Master Gautama, that enlightened person like you, both ‘exists’ and ‘does not exist’ after death?” Buddha still, remained silent. “Then it must be true Master Gautama, that people like you, neither ‘exists’ nor ‘doesn’t exist’ after death? Buddha smiled and asked Vacchogata, “Suppose someone was to ask you, 'A fire that has gone out in front of you, in which direction from here has it gone? Is it East, West, North or South?' Thus asked, how would you reply?"   "That doesn't apply, Master Gautama. Any fire burning dependent on a sustenance of grass and timber, being undernourished — from having consumed that sustenance and not being offered any other — is classified simply as 'out'”, replied Vacchogata. The Buddha further continued: "Even so, Vaccha, any physical form by which one describing the Buddha would describe him: That form the Buddha has abandoned, its root destroyed, made like a Palmyra stump, deprived of the conditions of development, not destined for future arising. Freed from the classification of form, Vaccha, the Buddha is deep, boundless, hard to fathom, like the sea. 'Reappears or exists' doesn't apply. 'Does not exist' doesn't apply. 'Both does & does not exist' doesn't apply. 'Neither exists nor does not exist' doesn't apply.

On a personal level, one of the main reasons I had wanted to cross Antarctica alone was to find out where my limits lay. If I failed because I had found those limits by being unable to continue for mental or physical reasons I would, at least, be returning home with some kind of answer. To fail because I had run out of time was a failure by logistics and as such, answered nothing. I would be left with the same question I had arrived with and that would be the bitter pill, the true failure. I couldn’t imagine ever wanting to repeat this journey and so the question would likely always remain unanswered. This was my one and only opportunity and it would be wasted.

The question that is left unanswered here is what we should do when we have become more productive. How should we use the time that has now been freed up? The answer, it seems, is to find new ways to be even more productive.

In one marijuana experience, my informant became aware of the presence and, in a strange way, the in-appropriateness of this silent "watcher," who responds with interest and occasional critical comment to the kaleidoscopic dream imagery of the marijuana experience but is not part of it. "Who are you?" my informant silently asked it. "Who wants to know?" it replied, making the experience very like a Sufi or Zen parable. But my informant's question is a deep one. I would suggest the observer is a small part of the critical faculties of the left hemisphere, functioning much more in psychedelic than in dream experiences, but present to a degree in both. However, the ancient query, "Who is it who asks the question?" is still unanswered; perhaps it is another component of the left cerebral hemisphere. An asymmetry in the temporal lobes

Once upon a time the world was a realm of unanswered questions and there was room in it for poetry. Man stood beneath the sky and he asked “why?”. And his question was beautiful. The new world will be a place of answers and no questions, because the only questions left will be answered by computers, because only computers will know what to ask. Perhaps that is the way it has to be.

They finally agreed that each new NT file would automatically receive two names. The first would be chosen by the user. If a long name was selected, NT automatically created a second name that conformed to the limitations of DOS but resembled the long name. Miller and Kimura were left to work out the unanswered questions. The two most vexing were: What if someone didn’t like the pre-assigned short name and wanted to change it? Or what if the name was identical, through a sheer fluke, with the name of an existing file?

I have a lot of question, few of them are answered the other have left un-answered soon they will be answered.... But this is the purpose to have question and to have an Aim.

would like to express my gratitude to every media person present here who came on such a short notice”, he began addressing the gathering. “As you all know that there have been a few unanswered questions in the recent past which has left the entire nation wondering as to what is wrong with this lovely old man. It has been so many years now that I have built one of the

There's a reason they say curiosity killed the cat. Some doors are better left unopened, some questions better left unanswered.

Through His Eyes" In the quiet of dawn, a young boy stands alone, With questions unanswered, in a sorrowful tone. His mother's silent battle, a war she couldn't survive, Left a scar on his heart, questioning why she took her life. "Why, oh why?" was the question he cried, Underneath the open, endless sky. I was speechless, for the first time, I found, A shared pain where silence was the only sound. I've been to the edge, where hope seems to die, Never thinking of the ones I'd leave behind. But through his eyes, I saw the light, A reason to fight, to make it right. It's hard to explain why some stars have to go, Why we face storms that shake us so. But I told him, "Her love is a bond that won't sever, She's watching over you, now and forever." "Why, oh why?" still echoes inside, But now I know, it's not for us to decide. We're here for a reason, not just to survive, But to cherish each moment we're alive. So thank you, young man, for the tears we both shed, For the lesson of life, from the words left unsaid. We're more than our sorrows, more than our fears, We're the sum of our love, through all the years.

My dearest All-Infinite- You must understand that this is the way the world always ends: in worthy questions left unanswered lonely hearts and empty eyes; lapping warnings nightly silence ripples in the undersea.

It should never have ended the way it did. So much left unanswered. So many questions.

I have too many things left unfinished. Questions unanswered. I want to fix things with my pirates, save Klaus, argue some more with Valorean, and listen to Opal berate me for being stupid enough to get caught.

The third phase of the work plan is to draft the introduction. The draft should consist of an analytical commentary related to the table of contents: “With this work we propose to demonstrate this thesis. The previous research has left many questions unanswered, and the data gathered is still insufficient. In the first chapter, we will attempt to establish this point; in the second chapter we will tackle this other point. In conclusion, we will attempt to demonstrate a, b, and c. We have set these specific limits for the work. Within these limits, we will use the following method.

She is with DJ at the hotel,’ Ruth said. Relief made Tom shake. He had been so worried. ‘We do not have your rucksack,’ Ruth said. ‘I have to get it back. It’s important,’ Tom said. ‘You are alive. That is the most important thing.’ ‘It had my stethoscope in it. My parents gave me that. And a grey cushion. I don’t care about anything else, just those two things.’ Ruth watched raw, visceral pain twist her friend’s face. The room swelled with the unanswered questions. What happened to Tom that made him like this? A doctor, happily married, now living on the streets … She had to find a way to keep Tom inside once he left this hospital. While there was never a good time to be a rough sleeper, the current cold spell was disastrous for anyone stuck on the streets. She would not let this kind man end his days broken, bruised and perished. Ruth said, ‘I have some savings. The deposit I got back from my flat. And despite my best efforts I am unable to find a suitable flat in Dublin to rent. It’s enough for you to take a room at The Silver Sands Lodge when you get out of here.

It had felt liberating to acknowledge this to himself and others, to shed his painful sense of the obligation to be somehow remarkable; but it left him with the unanswered question of what to do with his life, and simultaneously the realization that working on the novel endlessly had been a way to avoid facing that question.