(Are)we, the living?

Just some quotes as I read the first novel written by Ayn Rand, last.  Kira the central character, Russia the place.

“How beautiful!” Said Lydia looking at a stage setting. “It’s almost real” . “How beautiful!”, Said Kira looking at a landscape.”It’s almost artificial” .

“There were novels by foreign authors, in which a poor honest worker was always sent to jail for stealing a loaf of bread to feel the starving mother of this pretty young wife who had been raped by a capitalist and committed suicide thereafter, for which the all powerful capitalist fired her husband from the factory, so that their child had to beg on the streets and was run over by the capitalist’s limousine with sparkling fenders and a cheuffeur in uniform.”

Kira:“I think that when in doubt about the truth of an issue, it’s safer and in better taste to select the least numerous of the adversaries.” 

Leo: “Well I dislike womens’ questions, but I dont know whether I like a woman who won’t let me have the satisfaction of refusing to answer”. 

Kira: “Do you believe in God, Andrei? No. Neither do I. But that’s a favorite question of mine. An upside-down question, you know. What do you mean? Well, if I asked people whether they believed in life, they’d never understand what I meant. It’s a bad question. It can mean so much that it really means nothing. So I ask them if they believe in God. And if they say they do — then, I know they don’t believe in life. Why? Because, you see, God — whatever anyone chooses to call God — is one’s highest conception of the highest possible. And whoever places his highest conception above his own possibility thinks very little of himself and his life. It’s a rare gift, you know, to feel reverence for your own life and to want the best, the greatest, the highest possible, here, now, for your very own. “

Well, well!

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