#at

Love has never been understood, though it may have been fully experienced, and that experience communicated. ↗

— Shulamith Firestone

#communication

Love yourself enough to give what matters every chance of working by communicating as well as you possibly can, and trying for as long as you wish. ↗

— Jay Woodman

#communication #love #loving #communication

The desire of death will not always lead you to death but the fear of death will. ↗

— Santosh Kalwar

#desire #death

...since the order of the world is shaped by death, mightn't it be better for God if we refuse to believe in Him and struggle with all our might against death, without raising our eyes towards the heaven where He sits in silence? ↗

— Albert Camus

#science #the-plague #death

The sound is gone. There's nothing left but the insomniac throbbing of crickets. Crickets in the garden, the courtyard, the back courtyard. Close, domestic, identifiable. And those out in the country. Between all of them they raise, little by little, a wall that will keep out the thing that lies waiting for the tiniest crack of silence to steal through. The thing that is feared by all those who are sleepless, those who walk through the night, those who are lonely, children. That thing. The voice of the dead. ↗

— Rosario Castellanos

#silence #death

A dead dog is more quiet than a house on the steppes, a chair in a empty room. ↗

— Per Petterson

#dogs #emptyness #lonely #sad #silence

Only the debris of wreckage, and not much of that, was left behind by the sharks who fed on tragedy: the fishermen, too, mourned the death of a living child. ↗

— William Trevor

#loss #tragedy #death

The man now retrieved a linen cloth and stuffed it deep into Katherine’s mouth. “Death,” he whispered to her, “should be a quiet thing. ↗

— Dan Brown

#death

If life is worth living for so is it worth dying. ↗

— Santosh Kalwar

#life #living #death

When graves are covered with stones, the dead can no longer get out. But the dead can’t go out anyway! What difference does it make whether they’re covered with soil or stones? ↗

— Milan Kundera

#death