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Gratitude (2015)

par Oliver Sacks

Autres auteurs: Kate Edgar (Préface), Bill Hayes (Préface)

Autres auteurs: Voir la section autres auteur(e)s.

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8544225,339 (4.13)31
Biography & Autobiography. Literary Criticism. Philosophy. Nonfiction. HTML:“My predominant feeling is one of gratitude. I have loved and been loved. I have been given much and I have given something in return. Above all, I have been a sentient being, a thinking animal, on this beautiful planet, and that in itself has been an enormous privilege and adventure.”
—Oliver Sacks
No writer has succeeded in capturing the medical and human drama of illness as honestly and as eloquently as Oliver Sacks. 
During the last few months of his life, he wrote a set of essays in which he movingly explored his feelings about completing a life and coming to terms with his own death.
“It is the fate of every human being,” Sacks writes, “to be a unique individual, to find his own path, to live his own life, to die his own death.”
Together, these four essays form an ode to the uniqueness of each human being and to gratitude for the gift of life.
“Oliver Sacks was like no other clinician, or writer. He was drawn to the homes of the sick, the institutions of the most frail and disabled, the company of the unusual and the ‘abnormal.’ He wanted to see humanity in its many variants and to do so in his own, almost anachronistic way—face to face, over time, away from our burgeoning apparatus of computers and algorithms. And, through his writing, he showed us what he saw.”
—Atul Gawande, author of Being Mortal.
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» Voir aussi les 31 mentions

> Babelio : https://www.babelio.com/livres/Sacks-Gratitude/903929

> GRATITUDE / Oliver Sacks (Bourgois). — Le neurologue et auteur britannique Oliver Sacks — à qui l’on doit notamment L’éveil, qui fut adapté au cinéma avec Robin Williams et Robert De Niro — apprend en janvier 2015 qu’il est atteint d’un cancer en phase terminale. Gratitude regroupe les quatre papiers qu’il écrivit alors pour le New York Times, textes dans lesquels il livre de façon brillante sa vision touchante de son épopée sur terre, mais aussi de cette fin imminente.
—Le libraire, No 98 | Décembre 2016 - Janvier 2017
  Joop-le-philosophe | Jul 10, 2021 |
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Nom de l'auteurRôleType d'auteurŒuvre ?Statut
Oliver Sacksauteur principaltoutes les éditionscalculé
Edgar, KatePréfaceauteur secondairetoutes les éditionsconfirmé
Hayes, BillPréfaceauteur secondairetoutes les éditionsconfirmé
Woren, DanNarrateurauteur secondairequelques éditionsconfirmé
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I am now face to face with dying, but I am not finished with living.
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Last night I dreamed about mercury—huge, shining globules of quicksilver rising and falling.
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I have been increasingly conscious, for the last ten years or so, of deaths among my contemporaries. My generation is on the way out, and each death I have felt as an abruption, a tearing away of part of myself. 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.
Above all, I have been a sentient being, a thinking animal, on this beautiful planet, and that in itself has been an enormous privilege and adventure.
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Biography & Autobiography. Literary Criticism. Philosophy. Nonfiction. HTML:“My predominant feeling is one of gratitude. I have loved and been loved. I have been given much and I have given something in return. Above all, I have been a sentient being, a thinking animal, on this beautiful planet, and that in itself has been an enormous privilege and adventure.”
—Oliver Sacks
No writer has succeeded in capturing the medical and human drama of illness as honestly and as eloquently as Oliver Sacks. 
During the last few months of his life, he wrote a set of essays in which he movingly explored his feelings about completing a life and coming to terms with his own death.
“It is the fate of every human being,” Sacks writes, “to be a unique individual, to find his own path, to live his own life, to die his own death.”
Together, these four essays form an ode to the uniqueness of each human being and to gratitude for the gift of life.
“Oliver Sacks was like no other clinician, or writer. He was drawn to the homes of the sick, the institutions of the most frail and disabled, the company of the unusual and the ‘abnormal.’ He wanted to see humanity in its many variants and to do so in his own, almost anachronistic way—face to face, over time, away from our burgeoning apparatus of computers and algorithms. And, through his writing, he showed us what he saw.”
—Atul Gawande, author of Being Mortal.

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