#afterlife

Sweet Evelyn, I think, I should have loved you better. Possessing perfect knowledge I hover above him as he hacks me to bits. I see his rough childhood. I see his mother doing something horrid to him with a broomstick. I see the hate in his heart and the people he had yet to kill before pneumonia gets him at eighty-three. I see the dead kid's mom unable to sleep, pounding her fists against her face in grief at the moment I was burying her son's hand. I see the pain I've caused. I see the man I could have been, and the man I was, and then everything is bright and new and keen with love and I sweep through Sam's body, trying to change him, trying so hard, and feeling only hate and hate, solid as stone. ↗

— George Saunders

#compassion #empathy #forgiveness #hatred #change

We have no reliable guarantee that the afterlife will be any less exasperating than this one, have we? ↗

— Noel Coward

#any #exasperating #guarantee #less #reliable

And here we see again that we do not decide our own lives. Dieneke, even if we won't see each other again on earth, we will never be sorry for what we did, that we took this stand. ↗

— Diet Eman

#no-regrets #surrender #unpredictability-of-life #diet

There is a sort of mental treason That smothers dreams outside of reason ↗

— Mike Corbett

#demons #heaven #hell #intelligent-humor #irreverent-humor

All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses, And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier. ↗

— Walt Whitman

#life-and-death #living #death

Here's my question: What age are you when you're in Heaven? ↗

— Jodi Picoult

#age

Human knowledge hasn't been complete enough to understand the afterlife if it hasn't been through the valley of death. ↗

— Toba Beta

#death

The real question of life after death isn't whether or not it exists, but even if it does what problem this really solves. ↗

— Ludwig Wittgenstein

#philosophy #religion #death

If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went. ↗

— Will Rogers

#death #dogs #heaven #death

I told you before, Jem, that you would not leave me," Will said, his bloody hand on the hilt of the dagger. " And you are still with me. When I breath, I will think of you, for without you I would have been dead years ago. When I wake up and when I sleep, when I lift up my hands to defend myself or when I lie down to die, you will be with me. You say we are born again. I say there is a river that divides the dead and the living. What I do know is that if we are born again, I will meet you in another life, if there is a river, you will wait on the shores for me to come to you, so we can cross together." Will took a deep breath and let go of the knife. He drew his hand back. The cut on his palm was already healing- the result of the half dozen iratzes on his skin. " You hear that, James Carstairs? We are bound, you and I, over the divide of death, down through whatever generations may come. Forever." He rose to his feet and looked down at the knife. The knife was Jem's, the blood was his. This spot of ground, whether he could ever find it again, whether he lived to try, would be theirs. He turned around to walk to Balios, towards Wales and Tessa. He did not look back. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#death #jem #will #death