Top 350 Paul Kalanithi Quotes (2024 Update)
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101. “The truth that you live one day at a time didn’t help: What was I supposed to do with that day?”

— Paul Kalanithi

102. “Standing at the crossroads where I should have been able to see and follow the footprints of the countless patients I had treated over the years, I saw instead only a blank, a harsh, vacant, gleaming white desert, as if a sandstorm had erased all trace of familiarity.”

— Paul Kalanithi

103. “Paul,” he said, “do you think my life has meaning? Did I make the right choices?”

— Paul Kalanithi

104. “As a doctor, you have a sense of what it’s like to be sick, but until you’ve gone through it yourself, you don’t really know... when you get an IV placed, for example, you can actually taste the salt when they start infusing it. They tell me that this happens to everybody, but even after eleven years in medicine, I had never known.”

— Paul Kalanithi

105. “And now, finally, maybe I had arrived at denial. Maybe total denial. Maybe, in the absence of any certainty, we should just assume that we’re going to live a long time. Maybe that’s the only way forward. –.”

— Paul Kalanithi

106. “How little do doctors understand the hells through which we put patients.”

— Paul Kalanithi

107. “Existential claims have no weight; all knowledge is scientific knowledge. Yet the paradox is that scientific methodology is the product of human hands and thus cannot reach some permanent truth.”

— Paul Kalanithi

108. “Only later would I realize that our trip had added a new dimension to my understanding of the fact that brains give rise to our ability to form relationships and make life meaningful. Sometimes, they break.”

— Paul Kalanithi

109. “Because the brain mediates our experience of the world, any neurosurgical problem forces a patient and family, ideally with a doctor as a guide, to answer this question: What makes life meaningful enough to go on living?”

— Paul Kalanithi

110. “Bereavement is not the truncation of married love,” C. S. Lewis wrote, “but one of its regular phases – like the honeymoon. What we want is to live our marriage well and faithfully through that phase too.” Caring.”

— Paul Kalanithi

111. “Doctors in highly charged fields met patients at inflected moments, the most authentic moments, where life and identity were under threat; their duty included learning what made that particular patient’s life worth living, and planning to save those things if possible – or to allow the peace of death if not. Such power required deep responsibility, sharing in guilt and recrimination.”

— Paul Kalanithi

112. “Severe illness wasn’t life-altering, it was life-shattering. It felt less like an epiphany – a piercing burst of light, illuminating What Really Matters – and more like someone had just firebombed the path forward.”

— Paul Kalanithi

113. “Literature provided a rich account of human meaning; the brain, then, was the machinery that somehow enabled it. It seemed like magic.”

— Paul Kalanithi

114. “Paul faced each stage of his illness with grace – not with bravado or a misguided faith that he would “overcome” or “beat” cancer but with an authenticity that allowed him to grieve the loss of the future he had planned and forge a new one.”

— Paul Kalanithi

115. “There is a tension in the Bible between justice and mercy, between the Old Testament and the New Testament. And the New Testament says you can never be good enough: goodness is the thing, and you can never live up to it. The main message of Jesus, I believed, is that mercy trumps justice every time.”

— Paul Kalanithi

116. “She was upset because I’d promised her one life, and given her another.”

— Paul Kalanithi

117. “I was driven less by achievement than by trying to understand, in earnest: What makes human life meaningful? I still felt literature provided the best account of the life of the mind, while neuroscience laid down the most elegant rules of the brain.”

— Paul Kalanithi

118. “With little to distinguish one day from the next, time has begun to feel static. In English, we use the word time in different ways: “The time is two forty-five” versus “I’m going through a tough time.” These days, time feels less like the ticking clock and more like a state of being.”

— Paul Kalanithi

119. “This is not the end,” she said, a line she must have used a thousand times – after all, did I not use similar speeches to my own patients? – to those seeking impossible answers. “Or even the beginning of the end. This is just the end of the beginning.” And I felt better.”

— Paul Kalanithi

120. “Literature not only illuminated another’s experience, it provided, I believed, the richest material for moral reflection.”

— Paul Kalanithi

121. “Death may be a one-time event, but living with terminal illness is a process.”

— Paul Kalanithi

122. “To make science the arbiter of metaphysics is to banish not only God from the world but also love, hate, meaning.”

— Paul Kalanithi

123. “I got out of bed and took a step forward, repeating the phrase over and over: “I can’t go on. I’ll go on.”

— Paul Kalanithi

124. “Any major illness transforms a patient’s – really, an entire family’s – life.”

— Paul Kalanithi

125. “Frail but never weak.”

— Paul Kalanithi

126. “He knew he would never be alone, never suffer unnecessarily. At home in bed a few weeks before he died, I asked him, “Can you breathe okay with my head on your chest like this?” His answer was “It’s the only way I know how to breathe.” That Paul and I formed part of the deep meaning of each other’s lives is one of the greatest blessings that has ever come to me.”

— Paul Kalanithi

127. “Be ready. Be seated. See what courage sounds like. See.”

— Paul Kalanithi

128. “Words began to feel as weightless as the breath that carried. Stepping back, I realized that I was merely confirming what I already knew: I wanted that direct experience. It was only in practicing medicine that I could pursue a serious biological philosophy. Moral speculation was puny compared to moral action.”

— Paul Kalanithi

129. “Death comes for all of us. For us, for our patients: it is our fate as living, breathing, metabolizing organisms.”

— Paul Kalanithi

130. “The angst of facing mortality has no remedy in probability. When.”

— Paul Kalanithi

131. “If the hare makes too many missteps and has to keep adjusting, the tortoise wins. If the tortoise spends too much time planning each step, the hare wins.”

— Paul Kalanithi

132. “Verb conjugation has become muddled, as well. Which is correct: “I am a neurosurgeon,” “I was a neurosurgeon,” or “I had been a neurosurgeon before and will be again”? Graham Greene once said that life was lived in the first twenty years and the remainder was just reflection. So what tense am I living in now? Have I proceeded beyond the present tense and into the past perfect? The future tense seems vacant and, on others’ lips, jarring.”

— Paul Kalanithi

133. “I could either study meaning or I could experience it. After.”

— Paul Kalanithi

134. “The funny thing about time in the OR, whether you race frenetically or proceed steadily, is that you have no sense of it passing. If boredom is, as Heidegger argued, the awareness of time passing, then surgery felt like the opposite: the intense focus made the arms of the clock seem arbitrarily placed. Two hours could feel like a minute.”

— Paul Kalanithi

135. “I was driven less by achievement than by trying to understand, in earnest: What makes human life meaningful?”

— Paul Kalanithi

136. “So what tense am I living in now?”

— Paul Kalanithi

137. “This is not the end. Or even the beginning of the end. This is just the end of the beginning.”

— Paul Kalanithi

138. “And as I sat there, I realized that the questions intersecting life, death, and meaning, questions that all people face at some point, usually arise in a medical context.”

— Paul Kalanithi

139. “I was searching for a vocabulary with which to make sense of death, to find a way to begin defining myself and inching forward again. The privilege of direct experience had led me away from literary and academic work, yet now I felt that to understand my own experiences, I would have to translate them back into language. Hemingway described his process in similar terms: acquiring rich experiences, then retreating to cogitate and write about them. I needed words to go forward.”

— Paul Kalanithi

140. “Bereavement is not the truncation of married love,” C. S. Lewis wrote, “but one of its regular phases – like the honeymoon.”

— Paul Kalanithi

141. “We each joked to close friends that the secret to saving a relationship is for one person to become terminally ill. Conversely, we knew that one trick to managing a terminal illness is to be deeply in love – to be vulnerable, kind, generous, grateful.”

— Paul Kalanithi

142. “Even while terminally ill, Paul was fully alive; despite physical collapse, he remained vigorous, open, full of hope not for an unlikely cure but for days that were full of purpose and meaning.”

— Paul Kalanithi

143. “If we’re the best at this, that means it doesn’t get better than this.”

— Paul Kalanithi

144. “I could hear Emma’s voice again: You have to figure out what’s most important to you. If.”

— Paul Kalanithi

145. “Humans are organisms, subject to physical laws, including, alas, the one that says entropy always increases.”

— Paul Kalanithi

146. “This book carries the urgency of racing against time, of having important things to say. Paul confronted death – examined it, wrestled with it, accepted it – as a physician and a patient. He wanted to help people understand death and face their mortality.”

— Paul Kalanithi

147. “Grand illnesses are supposed to be life-clarifying. Instead, I knew I was going to die – but I’d known that before. My state of knowledge was the same, but my ability to make lunch plans had been shot to hell. The way forward would seem obvious, if only I knew how many months or years I had left. Tell me three months, I’d spend time with family. Tell me one year, I’d write a book. Give me ten years, I’d get back to treating diseases. The truth that you live one day at a time didn’t help: What was I supposed to do with that day?”

— Paul Kalanithi

148. “I still had a lot of practical medicine to learn, but would knowledge alone be enough, with life and death hanging in the balance? Surely intelligence wasn’t enough; moral clarity was needed as well. Somehow, I had to believe, I would gain not only knowledge but wisdom, too.”

— Paul Kalanithi

149. “For much of his life, Paul wondered about death – and whether he could face it with integrity. In the end, the answer was yes. I was his wife and a witness.”

— Paul Kalanithi

150. “The most obvious might be an impulse to frantic activity: to “live life to its fullest,” to travel, to dine, to achieve a host of neglected ambitions. Part of the cruelty of cancer, though, is not only that it limits your time; it also limits your energy, vastly reducing the amount you can squeeze into a day. It is a tired hare who now races. And even if I had the energy, I prefer a more tortoiselike approach. I plod, I ponder. Some days, I simply persist.”

— Paul Kalanithi