#angel

I took the thin magazine from the pouch in front of me and began to thumb through it. I felt self-conscious, as if I shouldn't be there. My mind began to wander, as I knew it would, back to the boonies. I was on patrol again. Monaco was on point. Peewee and Walowick followed him. Lobel and Brunner were next, then Johnson, the sixty cradled in his arm as if it were a child. We were walking the boonies, past rice paddies, toward yet another hill. I was in the rear, and for some reason I turned back. Behind me, trailing the platoon, were the others. Brew, Jenkins, Sergeant Dongan, Turner, and Lewis, the new guys, and Lieutenant Carroll. I knew I was mixing my prayers, but it didn't matter. I just wanted God to care for them, to keep them whole. I knew they were thinking about me and Peewee. ↗

— Walter Dean Myers

#fallen-angels #my-feels #soldiers #vietnam #war

Death didn't happen like I expected it to. There was no Grim Reaper, no chorus of angels, no army of demons. And my life didn't flash before my eyes. Death was the color of softness, a delicate green under a thin film of baby powder. There was nothing but soft random thoughts and picture, drifting through me like a child's breath blowing through a dandelion after making a wish. And as I died, I was held by my love. I wanted to soak up her love and smuggle it with me to wherever my soul was headed. -character Ron (Broken) ↗

— J. Matthew Nespoli

#color-of-death #death #dying #grim-reaper #death

Is it love to worship a saint in heaven, whom you dare not touch, who hovers above you like a cloud, which floats away from you even as you gaze? To love is to feel one being in the world at one with us, our equal in sin as well as in virtue. To love, for us men, is to clasp one woman with our arms, feeling that she lives and breathes just as we do, suffers as we do, thinks with us, loves with us, and, above all, sins with us. Your mock saint who stands in a niche is not a woman if she have not suffered, still less a woman if she have not sinned. Fall at the feet of your idol an you wish, but drag her down to your level after that- the only level she should ever reach, that of your heart. ↗

— Emmuska Orczy

#love #romance #equality

Death was a leech; no matter which side of the spectrum you were on, either dead or alive, it fed. It either acquired your soul or devoured all your joyful emotions. ↗

— Laura Kreitzer

#angels #fantasy #fiction #kreitzer #paranormal-romance

Spirits didn’t notice death. By the rule of impermanence, what was meant to break simply broke, and there was only the next breaking and the next. ↗

— E.J. Koh

#battle #breaking #death #demon #fantasy

Then she loved him as she would a manifestation of herself, both silenced and wounded in existence, both everything and nothing to eternity. ↗

— E.J. Koh

#battle #breaking #death #demon #fantasy

A comrade who deserts a comrade is a cowardly dog, and all such dogs should die a dog's death, comrade - ↗

— Robert Harris

#robert-harris #death

Luister goed: volg je hart, want slechts je hart kent de weg. ↗

— Tim Ray

#inspirational #spirituality #inspirational

I believe in a benevolent God not because He created the Grand Canyon or Michelangelo, but because He gave us snacks. ↗

— Paul Rudnick

#grand-canyon #michelangelo #snacks #death

Love can make even nice people do awful things." - Emily Todd, An Angel for Emily ↗

— Jude Deveraux

#emily-todd #love