#air

I felt the unfairness of it, the inarguable injustice of loving someone who might have loved you back but can't due to deadness. ↗

— John Green

#unfair #death

The greatest hazard of all, losing one’s self, can occur very quietly in the world, as if it were nothing at all. No other loss can occur so quietly; any other loss - an arm, a leg, five dollars, a wife, etc. - is sure to be noticed. ↗

— Søren Kierkegaard

#self #death

My analysis was directed toward purely physical conditions, such as defective wiring, presence of lack of air spaces between metal flues and woodwork, etc., and the results were presented in these terms. ↗

— Benjamin Whorf

#analysis #between #conditions #defective #directed

There are so many worse things than death. Not to be loved or not to be able to love: that is worse. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#jem-carstairs #tessa-gray #will-herondale #death

I am not getting you a brain, because I am not that kind of assistant, Dr. Frankenstein. ↗

— Rachel Caine

#death

He (Michael) was gone in a whisper of air, hardly making any sound at all, and Claire shivered and leaned against Shane’s solid, very human warmth. His arms went around her, and he touched his lips lightly to the back of her neck. “How can you smell this good after the kind of crappy day we’ve had?” “I sweat perfume. Like all girls. ↗

— Rachel Caine

#shane-collins #death

He held up one finger. "I thought it wasn't loaded" Shane said. Second finger. "Hand me a match so I can check the gas tank." Third finger. "Killed over ice cream. Basically, any death that requires me to be stupid first." Michael shook his head. "So what's on your good list?" "Oh you know. Hero stuff that gets me rerun on CNN, Like I died saving a busload of supermodels" Claire smacked his arm. "Ow! Saving them! What did you think I meant? ↗

— Rachel Caine

#michael-glass #shane-collins #death

How can you smell this good after the kind of crappy day we've had?" "I sweat perfume. Like all girls. ↗

— Rachel Caine

#shane-collins #death

When she expressed a doubtful hope that Tinker Bell would be glad to see her, he said, ‘Who is Tinker Bell?’ ‘O Peter,’ she said, shocked; but even when she explained he could not remember. ‘There are such a lot of them,’ he said. ‘I expect she is no more.’ I expect he was right, for fairies don’t live long, but they are so little that a short time seems a good while to them. ↗

— J.M. Barrie

#fairies #death

The clear awareness of having been born into a losing struggle need not lead one into despair. I do not especially like the idea that one day I shall be tapped on the shoulder and informed, not that the party is over but that it is most assuredly going on—only henceforth in my absence. (It's the second of those thoughts: the edition of the newspaper that will come out on the day after I have gone, that is the more distressing.) Much more horrible, though, would be the announcement that the party was continuing forever, and that I was forbidden to leave. Whether it was a hellishly bad party or a party that was perfectly heavenly in every respect, the moment that it became eternal and compulsory would be the precise moment that it began to pall. ↗

— Christopher Hitchens

#atheism #death #despair #eternal-life #heaven