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Sayings of Archibald Joseph Cronin

Sayings of Archibald Joseph Cronin
Guest Post

Archibald Joseph Cronin, was born on July 19, 1896 in Scotland. Cronin, a Scottish writer, doctor and physician, is known for his literary works. Coming from a family of Irish origin, Cronin was among his family's successful names in the field of medicine. He grew up in Cardross, Scotland, and went to the University of Glasgow to study medicine.

  • The pain is not not not being happy, but not being happy when you could be happy.
  • Life is not a straight and easy corridor where we travel freely and unhindered, but a labyrinth of transitions where we search for our way, get lost and confused, and sometimes come to a dead end.
  • Hell is losing hope.
  • He who does not give up his breath cannot attain true freedom.
  • Being sad doesn't take anything away from tomorrow's troubles. It just drains today's strength.
  • It was 1930. One day I got sick to my stomach. Even though my wife told me to go to a doctor, I didn't care. As the days passed, the discomfort increased. One day, unable to resist my wife's insistence, I went to a familiar doctor. My friend, who I thought would invite me to a bridge party by recommending that I drink a piece of bismuth, made a diagnosis that had a huge impact on my life: I had an ulcer in my stomach. I needed to rest outdoors for at least six months. After much hesitation, I chose a farm on the Scottish plateau near the village of Talbert as my resting place. I think there can be no worse pain than such responsible rest for a person accustomed to work. By the end of the first week, I was exasperated. I was forbidden from any kind of physical movement. There was nothing left to do but take care of the chickens and try to make friends with the cows. While I was thinking about dealing with something, writing came to my mind. I've always had a desire to write. Sometimes I would even confide in my wife and tell her that I would write a novel if possible. She doesn't take my words seriously with a sweet smile and says, "Is that right, my darling?" He would gently bring the subject to my patients and my profession. The conundrum that confronts people who are in a position to make a selection by this quiet lake of the plateau was now standing in front of me. I returned to the farm, wet from the rain and shy. I took out the damp and dirty papers from the trash can. After drying it in the kitchen oven, I spread it on my table. I started working again. I was working hard as if I was beating myself up, I didn't want to be defeated or submit to fate anymore. This willful effort did not delay in bearing fruit. After a second three months, I wrote the word (end) at the bottom of my book.

Who is Archibald Joseph Cronin?