I wept heartily over this poor little deceased soul. It was the first sentient being I had ever killed. I was now a killer. I was now as guilty as Cain. I was sixteen years old, a harmless boy, bookish and religious, and now I had blood on my hands. It's a terrible burden to carry. All sentient life is sacred.
Yann MartelArt is a gift: you create and then you give away. How readers receive that gift is their business. If they hate it, thatโs their response to it. Others respond by liking it. Either way, that is their interaction with the book, which is no longer mine.
Yann Martel